


oh comfort, oh comfort -how does it feel?

by Charlie_Michelle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Endgame Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, F/F, F/M, Friendship/Love, Grounder Bellamy Blake, Grounder Octavia Blake, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Nation AU, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Romance, Sex, Wells Jaha Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26650675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Michelle/pseuds/Charlie_Michelle
Summary: ~Only happy endings exist in my mind *ignores everything from season six and seven for enternity*~{Secondary Excerpt Below}“There’s a bit of a problem.”“Define a bit of a problem.” Murphy snorted.“There are some clans that believe Lexa and Clarkes’ personal…” he paused to look over at Clarke who had averted her gaze to the ground, “... personal relationship is the driving force behind our peace treaty. It’s created some tension.”“So how do we resolve that tension?”“Well,” Marcus delayed with a subtle blush working its way up his neck, “the grounders seem to want to resolve that issue themselves. Each clan is to present their eligible persons for a challenge of some kind and then the winner gets, well, they get…” he continued to stumble over words until Miller told him to spit it out and Clarke had been in the midst of reprimanding her friend when they all heard it.“...well the winner gets Clarke.”
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Echo, Echo/Roan (The 100), Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller, Jasper Jordan/Maya Vie, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Raven Reyes/Kyle Wick, Wells Jaha/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 172





	1. i can't even fall apart

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy friends! I'm so incredibly disappointed in many things this season; the Flyers losing to the freaking Islanders (for my fellow hockey fans), my computer crashing and thus causing me to restart chapter four of my currently ongoing fic (for my 'afraid to live; afraid to die' fans) and in how this show has done nothing but rip my heart out and crush my dreams (for all of us fans). So since this idea has been bouncing back and forth in my head for a while I decided to write it out! In hopes of keeping all you fine people entertained more timely -and this is hopefully how I plan to approach all my current and future pieces as well, I've decided to write out at least four to five chapters (or one shots) in advance and then just post weekly. To start off the trend I bring you this new piece! A little canon divergence picking up at the start of season three. Be kind, be well and thank you!

In the months that followed the fall of Mount Weather the people of Arkadia had found a disturbing peace. The silence that settled amongst the remaining citizens of the Ark resembled the eeriness of the early morning fog settling over the fields that surrounded the camp. The heaviness in the air clung to the souls like the clothes to their bodies, like the sweat to their skin. Nightmares lurked through the night just like the wolves in the wood but, despite the persistent feeling of being stalked and preyed upon there  _ was _ peace. The council had come together to reform their laws and expectations so that the adjustment of their people would be easier. However, it wasn’t an easy process; there were many meetings that lasted hours upon hours and arguments that left members pulling their hair out. In the end the decisions couldn’t be made based on the experience of space life, because in space life was cold and relentless -and earth life was hot and unpredictable. Reluctantly Marcus Kane and Abby Griffin had no choice but to officially include Raven Reyes, Nathan Miller, Lincoln  _ kom Trikru _ and Clarke within their ranks. 

In the long run Marcus worked with the citizens of the Ark. He helped them build their shelters, he held open discussions on concerns and improvements and he put together the official schedule of chores around camp. Abby continued to maintain and handle the medical tent with her partner Eric Jackson. She founded a triage system that allowed a balance between the two primary doctors and implemented a training program for anyone interested in learning standard medical practices (both professionally and personally). Raven Reyes had become the partner of Jacapo Sinclair and together the two rebuilt the engineering and communications department. There was an adjustment period for her; between working with the insufferable Kyle Wick all day with his obnoxious amount of positivity and support and her permanently useless bum leg. Nathan Miller worked alongside his father to retrain and reform the security forces. Lincoln showed the other council members and citizens how to live off the earth like a grounder. He taught them how to track, to hunt and fish. He taught those willing to learn how to skin animals and create clothing and how to insulate their shelters, build fires and the folklore that followed Grounder culture. It would also be his place to translate and stand as an ambassador for the Arkadians when the moment called for. 

For Clarke it was much harder to find her place amongst her people. True she worked odd end times in their medical center and she was on the council for a reason, but she lacked the personal connection to her people that the other council members had created. Most days Clarke spent alone as she tended to avoid the small crowds of people. It felt easier that way, she wouldn’t have to acknowledge the pitiful glances from those who were ignorant to her sins and she could avoid the blatant hostility of those that witnessed the carnage. The only positive that came of Clarke’s self-imposed social exile was her ability to discreetly gather and apply information from those around her. It made her feel useful to overhear a conversation that concerned resources and survivability! She was able to take that to the weekly council meetings and she was able to truly contribute to the council. If there was a category of work for surviving, almost all of Arkadia would agree that Clarke should be at the head, but to Clarke, her position was given to her because of her mother. 

Still, even Clarke had found her place eventually. And thus, the council came together to work  _ with _ the people of Arkadia instead of for or against them. The early days of Arkadia -when they declared themselves Camp Jaha, were spent around searching for survivors. In fact, their search and rescue team consisting of John Murphy, Wells Jaha, Stevens, Costa, Jones, and Zoe Monroe had little to no contact with Arkadia since their departure just a day before the execution of Finn Collins. It created a pit of dread in most people's stomachs, because their delay could mean almost anything. Were they killed? Did they find any survivors? So many unknown factors went into their success and it made Clarke sick to think that she sent those people (her friends) to an almost certain death. Just as she had done with Nathan Miller in the mountain. Most days she could barely stomach the thought. The early days also consisted of failing nutrition; their rations from space weren’t going to cut it and for the first two weeks after landing most people went days without eating. Dehydration had proven to be a bigger obstacle than Abby had originally predicted. Not to mention the threat of death from the Grounders that surrounded them and the knowledge that Mount Weather was another enemy, their early days were spent in constant fear and anxiety. 

Most would say it was nice to wake up and not immediately fear for your life. 

Most would also say that the lifestyle they were living wasn’t awful, now that they had the resources available from the Mountain to help. Clarke tried to avoid the inside of the mountain at all costs, but on the rare occasion that Gina Martin and Raven were able to get her to share some drinks and a hot meal with them it was Macallan’s gentle singing and skilled piano playing that echoed in her head and not the silence that came with death. There was talk amongst the council of potentially moving into the Mountain in a whole. Clarke almost vomited in her spot when she heard the seriousness in the suggestion. Winter was quickly approaching and there would be no real way to survive the season change with the surrounding areas all Grounder territory. Her mother agreed, of course she did, once she figured out that her medical center was meager at best and would never be able to sustain an unknown flu season. Everyone had something positive to say; even Lincoln whose people had been strung up and drained of their life there. When the discussion rounded to Clarke she had shrugged indifferently, she herself couldn’t live inside those walls, but if the survival of her people depended upon it she couldn’t say no. 

The evening of the final vote she abstained entirely and removed herself from the discussion. 

In the weeks that followed there was a new flurry of movement! A wave of excitement filtered through the people! Marcus had taken the time to discuss all the positives of relocating the bulk of Arkadia to the bunker inside the mountain and he had answered every question given to him as best as possible. Were people allowed to stay in Arkadia if they choose?  _ Yes, but resources would be limited and constant travel back and forth between both locations may grow tedious as well as dangerous _ . What about the people of the mountain? Did they agree to this?  _ There’s no need to worry about the people of the mountain, because of the brave and courageous acts of those that charged the mountain months ago it is a free and open place for us to utilize _ . What happened to the people of the mountain? 

And that was met with silence. 

Nobody talked about the eradication of the mountain people. Nobody talked about the betrayal that came from the Grounders forces. Nobody talked about the horror of walking through a corridor and seeing bodies upon bodies blistered and lifeless. Nobody talked about it, because the only people that truly understood what happened were the council members themselves, Monty Green and Jasper Jordan. Jasper who had once been full of life and happiness and laughter was no dark and cynical, he was twisted and broken and a drunk that contributed almost nothing to their new society. While some people questioned why anyone bothers keeping him around it was Clarke that defended him. Always Clarke that insisted he was just as important as the next citizen, that his life mattered and that his presence wasn’t a waste or hindrance. In return it was Jasper that took to verbally assaulting his once friend and comrade. It was Jasper that liked to remind Clarke of her decision that ruined his life, ruined  _ her _ life. It was Jasper that no longer laughed or teased Clarke and it was him that vehemently protested the Arkadia takeover of Mount Weather. 

“People actually lived there! People slept there and ate there, they  _ loved _ and laughed there. They raised families and created friendships within those walls and you  _ destroyed _ that! You killed an entire society!” He cried out in outrage after cornering Clarke at the drinking well. 

“I’m sorry Jasper, it wasn’t my decision.” 

He snorted, “But it was Clarke, you had the choice to save innocent lives and in the name of your survival you chose not to. Here we are again, in the name of your survival.” 

She turned around to walk away from him, he’d follow her for a few feet, but he always disappeared as soon as he saw another person walk by. It was how this new Jasper operated. He proceeded to throw the facts at her rigid and straight back and just like always he made the move to walk away, but not before she had the chance to remind him, “It was for our survival Jasper, my survival has nothing to do with it.” 

Four weeks to the day later Arkadia has more than seventy percent of their remaining population situated in the mountain. It had taken the entire month to remove the bodies and properly prepare the bunker for new life. Pieces of furniture, clothing items, everyday utensils and entertainment items were all piled up and divided out. Homes were assigned based off of alphabetical order -which invited the true idea of unity to the people of the Ark. New jobs were handed out by Marcus, Sinclair had taken over the control room and Abby had found herself and Eric within the new and vastly more adequate medical wing. The move was not complete, they had wanted the transition to be peaceful and not rushed. While people prepared their homes and closets and adjusted to their new responsibilities the council also took to finalizing their details. Raven and Clarke would remain in Arkadia permanently and while Abby protested the decision had ultimately been made and voted upon. Nathan Miller would split his time evenly, for every two weeks spent in Arkadia he would also spend two weeks within the bunker, however, it would be his father David overseeing the full guard in Mount Weather permanently. Abby had wanted to offer the same split time set up, mostly to ensure that Clarke was still alive and well, but partially because running both medical facilities would require the split attention. She was vetoed on the basis of her position as Chancellor. In the end the compromise was made that Clarke would take over the medical center within Arkadia permanently so that Abby could rest easy that things were settled and taken care of. 

The final details to work out had been establishing times for council meetings. Until the communications system was completely up and running the weekly council meetings were to be held between both spaces on a rotation. Once the communications were up Raven was positive that video conferences would be able to suffice, therefore no longer disrupting the lives of council members. Until then, every third day of the week Abby, Marcus and Lincoln would travel down from Mount Weather to meet with Clarke, Raven and Nathan -assuming it wasn’t his weeks in the bunker. They tried to be secretive about it. They feared that their predictability would give the Grounders a one up on them. It was a never ending battle between Sky People and Grounders. While almost all confrontations were provoked it was impossible to say who started it as both sides adamantly swore it couldn’t possibly be their own. In the last month or so there had been a strange silence from the Grounders and Lincoln reassured everyone it was preparation for the winter season that has led to the temporary peace. 

On the sixth weekly meeting since the move into Mount Weather the guards had alerted the council that there was a warrior approaching the gates with a small army. Clarke was the first out of her seat with Lincoln and Nathan not far behind as they rushed to prevent bloodshed. Indra  _ kom Trikru _ who was the acting  _ Wormana _ of TonDC working alongside the Commander was at the gate with a missive and important information for the people of Arkadia. Lincoln stepped forward with his arms crossed over his broad chest and legs hip width apart. 

“ _ Why laik yu hir? _ ”

“Heda sent me.” Indra unsheathed her weapon and stabbed into the soft ground just outside of the gates signifying her position means no harm. “ _ Osir need kom talk _ .” 

“ _ Osir don no business kom heda _ .” Lincoln doesn’t back down from his position. “ _ Yu _ aren’t welcome.” 

Instead of anger it’s amusement that drifted through her eyes, “You’ll want to hear what the Commander has to say Lincoln and so will your people.” 

“The Commander holds no power over us, whatever it is we don’t want or need what she has to say.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong. The Commander has requested the presence of  _ Skaikru’s _ council in Polis in three days for the initiation of  _ Skaikru _ into the coalition. It’s a decision that  _ Heda _ has made to show that we stand with  _ Wanheda _ .” Indra makes eye contact with Clarke who has positioned herself next to Lincoln in a similar stance. Much to the warriors' pleasure there is no way to read Clarke’s emotions or thoughts, her eyes are clear and her feelings are masked and controlled. Months prior Clarke had been easy to read and it had almost been her undoing, now she stood amongst her people as a true warrior. “A position in the coalition will offer protection for your people and support from the Commanders’ ranks should you need it.” 

Clarke steps forward just enough so that her shoulder has barely crossed Lincolns’; “And what makes this alliance different from the last?” 

“Better terms; bother interpersonally and conditionally.” Indra replaced her sword back to her hip and crossed the entryway of the camp. “Lexa is the first commander to invoke peace upon the twelve clans of the coalition, but she wants more. Peace among all of the clans would ensure that our people can live on in prosperity.” 

“You have a funny definition of peace,” Clarke started with an eyebrow raised, though she had released her arms so that they rested by her side. “where I come from peace is to spare children, not kill them.” 

“Imprisonment is not sparing them Clarke, nor is executing your criminals with no trial.” 

“ _ Jus drein, jus daun _ , right Indra?” 

Marcus Kane appeared suddenly with a firm hand to Clarke’s shoulder; “In any case I think our meeting room is a better environment for this discussion,” he stepped forward to lead Indra away from the small crowd that had gathered around them, “Indra if you’d follow me.”

Once everyone was seated again Indra stepped forward with the parcel. It was an official invitation for three representatives of Skaikru and four guards to join in a meeting of the clans in Polis set for three days from the day they received the invite. The only blatant condition listed on the parchment was the presence of Clarke which almost seemed like a given fact. Indra proceeded to explain that Lexa had always intended to honor the terms set before the attack on Mount Weather, regardless of outcome. Raven rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Marcus shushed her and asked the warrior to continue. It’s her next statement that left the majority of the table uneasy and riled up.

“It has been brought to the Commander’s attention that a bounty for  _ Wanheda _ has been in effect courtesy of Queen Nia of the Ice Nation. If the Sky People accept to resume the terms of our original alliance it will be a testament of our trust and support in the Commander of Death and would therefore be an act of treason to follow through with an assassination.” 

“Tell us Indra, who is this commander of death?” 

The warrior attempted to hold onto her composure, but the slight adjustment in her gaze was enough for Clarke to figure it out. Rather than waiting for a response from Indra, Clarke spoke, “I am the Commander of Death aren’t I? When you said Wanheda earlier you made direct eye contact with me. The bounty is for my life, isn’t it?” 

And then the uproar happened. It started with just Raven and Abby; both equally disturbed and enraged on the younger woman’s behalf. Then it turned into Marcus demanding everyone’s silence, Nathan threatening Indra while she taunted back to him and it was all disrupted when Lincoln pushed his chair back causing the legs to scratch against the beaten and worn metal. “Why would Nia place a bounty on Clarke? What aren’t you mentioning?” 

Indras’ eyes turned calculating. “The Ice Nation Queen is dying, her embassary has reported that her condition is deteriorating quickly. Word of Clarkes’ actions in the mountain has spread throughout the clans like wildfire and with that started the rumor that the girl who destroyed the mountain men had a commander spirit within and in our culture if you’d like to inherit that spirit you must first kill the one that beholds it. Many of Nias’ true followers believe that the spirit of Wanheda could save their queen.” 

“Does Lexa anticipate a conflict upon her death?” 

“No,” Indra replied shortly, “we consider the Ice Nation to be eccentric within their beliefs, but most members of their clan do not fully believe in the practices of their queen. The most pressing issue upon her death is that their kingdom is a complete monarch and next in line for the throne was banished leaving the monarchy to end and a new era to start. Lexa intends to infiltrate their rankings to ensure that this next reigning line will remain peaceful and adhere to the alliance they’ve built with us.” 

Clarke looked contemplative as she allowed the information to absorb. After a moment or two, just before Marcus had the chance to ask his question Clarke beat him to it, “So if her death is imminent why is there a need for a public declaration of peace between your people and ours? A bounty aside, an alliance is a very permanent solution to what seems like a temporary problem.”

“And if the new line of rulers for the Ice Nation believe the same nonsense that Nia does?”

“Indra,” Marcus pulled her attention away from Clarke, “if we could have a day to discuss and weigh our options? I’m assuming even if we refuse the terms of an alliance our presence would still be required in Polis, correct?” 

“That is correct, you’d have to present your reasoning to the Commander yourself and her council members. Polis is a day and a half ride from here, I can give you no more than twenty-four hours to come to a decision for the alliance.” With that, Indra turned and made an exit out of the building. 

“She’s batshit crazy!” Raven exclaimed merely seconds after their uninvited guest had cleared the room. 

“Raven, please, she was doing her job.” 

“Not Indra, Lexa, the Commander.” it is not missed how Raven drags out the title in a mockery, “what kind of pompous and arrogant person does she have to be to leave us stranded in the middle of a battle and then demand our presence in her capital?”

“So we just throw away the possibility of an alliance?” Nathan questioned hotly. “If the conditions are to remain the same we’d have unlimited resources and no hunting restrictions, we’d be provided our own sector of land! Not to mention the enduring peace given our geographical position considering we’re surrounded on all four sides.” 

“And if she decides that we’re no longer useful?” 

“She never thought we weren’t useful.” Clarke’s voice trails off. “She made a decision for the best of her people, just like we made a decision for ours. The conditions we had originally set though were extremely beneficial and we’d be idiots to throw them away.” 

“As someone who was there during the original negotiations I agree with Clarke.” Marcus piped up. “Lots of educational benefits came from the original conditions; an opportunity for us to be shown how to really thrive down here and if I remember correctly, Lincoln’s reassured all of us that most of his life has been peaceful.” 

“Finish that statement Kane.” Raven bit out, but before Marcus could continue she cut him off. “Lincoln recalled that it was peaceful until the original dropship came down and the hundred delinquents you used as test dummies landed right in the middle of their hunting grounds.” 

“Which is besides the point Raven,” Abby chastised, “overall I agree with Raven’s suspicions. Us moving into Mount Weather means our reliance on their teachings can decrease.” 

“However,” Lincoln responded, “having no alliance and having two different clan locations leaves Arkadia at risk of constant attack if not slaughtered if caught in the crossfires of clan conflict.”

“Arguments are good for both pros and cons,” Clarke sat forward to rest her elbows onto the cool metal table, “ultimately our decision can’t be truly made until we’ve seen the formal conditions presented to us. We need to figure out who is going to Polis.” 

“Obviously if you have to go I’m going.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes at her mother; “Objection, as the Chancellor we can’t risk having you travel to a potentially hazardous environment.” 

“Well we can have Marcus fill in temporarily.” Abby insisted with her own bite. 

“And if a negotiation point is my life for the rest of Arkadia are you able to objectively sit there and make the best call for your people?” 

Raven raised her hand, “Are you saying that you think it’s a set up?” 

Clarke shook her head, “No, but it’s entirely possible. I don’t think they’d have sent Indra if it were a set up to execute me. However, the point still stands, if it came down to it my mothers’ guilt over sending me to the ground wouldn’t allow for her to make a good call about my wellbeing.” 

“Guilt has nothing to do with it Clarke,” Abby protested angrily, “I love you! I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“All the more reason for you to stay here.” Clarke looked away from her mother quickly and turned towards Marcus. “You’re great with our people and you understand what they really need out of this. You should go and be my mothers’ second in command, you’d be able to make the decisions that best suit our people.” 

“I’d be honored to go as Abby’s second, which handles two of the three positions requested, and for the third I’d recommend Nathan.” 

“I object,” Nathan said, “I want to go as a member of the guard detail. Lincoln should be our third.” 

“No way! Lincoln can’t take that risk, not after he left his village and people for us. Even I know that’s dangerous, but if we need a third I can always go.” 

Clarke shook her head; “Remember the last time? Your open hostility put a target on your back Raven and I can’t put you through that again.” 

“Yeah, they left me with a wicked scar.” 

“And a bad attitude.” Nathan griped out only to have an indignant response thrown back. “Okay, my dad and I will figure out the security detail and make sure that we’re dividing our resources appropriately and if Clarke doesn’t mind I can stand in as the third.” 

“Of course I don’t mind,” she snorted, “if anything you have my back and that makes it much easier to see this whole thing through.” 

“So it’s decided?” Abby questioned bitterly, “Marcus, Nathan and Clarke will be our representatives in Polis?” 

“I make a motion to accept Kane, Miller and Clarke as our representatives in Polis.” Raven barked out. 

“I second the motion.” Echoed Lincoln and was immediately followed with Abby’s prompt and not a single objection. “Meeting adjourned?” the bald headed man asked. 

“Meeting adjourned.” 

* * *

Later that evening Raven had paced the width of her corridor at least a dozen times before Kyle had been able to pry out of her what happened in the meeting. And she spared him no details, but the more she talked about it the angrier she got. “It’s like she just forgets that Lexa completely fucked us over!” 

“Or she’s level headed enough to realize that people make mistakes.” 

Raven scoffed, “Please, Lexa fed on Clarke’s insecurities and abused her position of power.” 

Kyle shrugged, “I neither agree nor disagree, but I’m asking you to see reason here Reyes.” 

“There’s nothing to see! Clarke is going to go to Polis, fuck the commander and then during their post coital bliss Lexa is going to backstab Clarke. Just like last time! And for what?” 

“The chance of peace, the ability to utilize the resources around us, the sense of belonging?” 

“No, for bullshit!” Raven yelled out in anger and frustration while her hand began to work through her hair. “For us to be belongings and property, for us to be game pieces in a chess match. We clearly don’t need them!” 

Kyle eventually wandered his way over to her and forced her to sit down at the small table against the wall across from her bed and as he worked her normal ponytail and braids out he tried to keep his voice soft and soothing. “I can’t tell if you don’t trust this meeting because of the previous talk of alliances or because of Clarke.” 

“Fuck Clarke,” she bit out, but it lacked the fire that her normal anger held, “everything she does can be justified for the greater good.”

“And that’s a bad thing how?” 

“Because, it’s not always for the greater good Wick. Nobody forced her to put anyone’s life in her hands, she chose to take that responsibility on herself. Now they’re saying that she has this mystical power of belonging or some shit.” She grumbled out while she picked at the skin of her thumb. “She just doesn’t know how to say no.” 

For Ravens’ benefit, Kyle does not call her out on her double standards and meanings. Also for her benefit he tried to reason with her; “Raven I know you’re still angry about  _ things _ , but is it really fair to just hold Clarke completely accountable for it?” 

“Finn was a good man and he didn’t deserve to die, she didn’t have the right to kill him.” 

“What was she supposed to do?” Kyle exclaimed as he sat across from her with her hair tie now secure around his own wrist. “If she had even attempted to kill Lexa she’d have been executed on the spot and our entire population would have been wiped out. Plus, Miller told me what happened and it sounded like Finn turned himself in and he knew what was going to happen.” 

“And that’s supposed to make it better?” 

“No, no, but…” he paused for a moment and reached across the table for her hand, “just because Finn was a good man doesn’t mean he did good things. Our actions have consequences and his actions were pretty inexcusable. Clarkes’ were too, the biggest difference is that Finns’ actions were held accountable publicly, Clarke handled her own consequences privately.” 

“Also bullshit,” Raven grumbled out as she slouched over the table, “she shouldn’t have to handle what happened in the mountain on her own. I mean we were all there! We could all see her back was against the wall. The only person who really doesn’t understand is Jasper.” 

“Well kids’ handling his own issues right now.” 

“I know that I eventually have to forgive Clarke, it’s just easier to process everything when there’s someone to blame, you know?” 

“Not really,” Wick smiled softly as he replaced her hair tie back around her left wrist. “but I think I can figure out that you’ve already forgiven Clarke and I think that this is more about forgiving yourself.” 

She stared at him with pointed eyes and pursed lips, “Shut up.” 

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to make me.” 

She had already stretched across the table to press her lips to his before his taunt was finished. Raven figured she could handle the next round of drama and suspense in the morning, after she had spent an evening with the obnoxious and overly positive Kyle Wick. If anything, she figured his positivity would eventually overtake her negativity and together they could create a balance in life. If it wasn’t meant to be then Raven would move on and figure it out, but for now he was everything she needed. 

* * *

Most nights Clarke didn’t actually sleep. Trying to find tranquility in the dark oftentimes led to night terrors that froze her body up and left her panting and crying in the silence of her room. It was why she always offered to take over the night watch in the medical tent, but that night it was a young girl from Mecha Station that had wanted experience doing so. She explained to Clarke that Mount Weather made her uncomfortable and preferred the outdoors and in complete understanding the former delinquent leader agreed that it would be a good idea. They agreed to start her off small, one overnight a week until she was fully trained and then they’d split a rotation. It just sucked that the night Clarke needed the distraction the most was the night that Avery had the tent. 

Instead she was left to wander around camp as she sought out the comfort and companionship of Monty Green. A fellow delinquent of the one-hundred and survivor of the mountain; he had been in the control room when Clarke made the decision to eradicate the bunker. Not many people knew that, Raven of course figured it out and Nathan showed up literally seconds after the lever had been pulled, but both had sworn secrecy with Clarke. Jasper was only a ghost of himself when he was with Monty, and Clarke couldn’t bear t o see that last glimmer of his old self dissipate if he found out the truth. She knew he had no intention of living in Mount Weather -none of the surviving forty-seven did, and that like her he too was plagued with nightly demons. Sometimes he was up all night making sure Jasper didn’t get too drunk and other times he positioned himself at the edge of camp just before the forest started. That had been where Clarke found him. 

The air had started to change as she exhaled and watched a cloud of her breath disappear in front of her. She pulled her jacket tighter against her body and plopped down next to the kid from the former Agro Station. He smiled softly at her and passed a small flask without question and she took it without answer. The heat of the moonshine warmed her within seconds and just to keep that warmth for a little longer she took another big gulp before she had passed the flask back. Together the pair stared into the night; Clarke spent her evening gazing at the stars and through the trees while Monty took to watching the ground shift as the wind blew through it. They sat together in silence for hours at a time, both content to let their own thoughts run through their minds respectively. At the first sign of morning light they’d speak, discuss their contemplations and offer their own childhood stories. The early pre-dawn purple glow around them allowed for Monty to better see Clarke and he knew upon a single glance that there was something wrong. 

“There’s a bounty out for my life.” 

He whistled slowly; “Not what I expected to hear.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

He opened the flask and took another sip before he passed it back to her, “Is it Jasper?” 

She shook her head just before she took her sip and then held onto the flask upon swallowing. “No, but it just confirms my decision to keep Jasper in the dark about what happened that day. Nobody else can know you were in the control room with me.” 

“Raven’s probably figured it out,” he paused for a second to pick at a blade of grass, “that girl is scary smart.” 

“So are you doofus.” She nudged him with her shoulder until he met her eye and she smiled softly. “I have to go to Polis to meet with Lexa over the conditions of our alliance.” 

“The same Lexa that kissed you just before the fight and then left you on the battlefield?” 

“The same Lexa that convinced me to flee and let a village burn from a missile too.” 

“Fuck that bitch.” 

Clarke laughed softly; “I probably would.” 

Monty raised an eyebrow and scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Please don’t, I’d have to judge you forever for it. Let’s get back to the bounty for your life, that was less nauseating.” 

“Right well, that’s part of the reason why she wants to declare us an ally clan. Apparently the Ice Nation is about to lose their queen and there’s no guarantee that whoever replaces her is going to be less psychotic or more psychotic. According to the gossipers of the woods I’m a hot commodity because if their queen kills me she’ll miraculously inherit my spirit and live.” 

“Will she though?” 

“Right, that’s what I said! I mean, I understand their beliefs are more spiritual than ours were and so therefore I understand that I don’t really understand  _ them _ .” She huffed out a small self deprecating laugh before she continued. “At the least it’s t like a flattering way to acknowledge my crimes against humanity.” 

“They’re not crimes against humanity Clarke.” Monty took his turn to nudge her shoulder in comradery. “You did what you had to do, you’ve always done that.” 

“Well not always.” 

“Hey, you coming back through the gates of Arkadia was the best thing possible for you! And for me and for Raven and for you mom and for the other forty-six kids that lost their hope until you brought it back.” 

She sighed; “Forty-five. Jasper definitely does not care for my being here.” 

“Jasper just needs time! You just need time and it fucking sucks that you feel like you haven’t been given the space or time that’s needed to heal, but I promise you, being on your own? It would have hurt a lot more.” 

“Being on my own also doesn’t put my people at risk.” Monty asked her to elaborate and so Clarke took a minute to collect her thoughts properly. “This bounty, this… price that they put on my head is dangerous for all you. Everyone knows where the Sky People are, everyone knows that we’ve claimed the mountain as our own now too. If you had just let me leave I could have taken the bounty away from you all.” 

“If I had let you leave you’d be dead right now and we both know it.” 

The sun had started to turn the sky to a warm pink and Clarke shrugged; “Maybe, maybe not.” 

“There’s no maybe about it Clarke.” Monty snorted back at her, but she could tell but the serious glint in his eye that it wasn’t the time to joke. It was hard at times, because Clarke sometimes felt like her life was one big joke, but to Monty? Well, Monty saw Clarkes’ life as something worthwhile and invigorating and even though it was, at the moment, in shambles. “I know you’re not nearly as okay as you let everyone think, but you’re getting there. We’re getting there.” 

“Yeah, alright,” but she still didn’t come out and say it, didn’t admit that her biggest fear was how close she was to giving up entirely, “think anyone will care if I sleep most of the morning away?” 

“I don’t think they’ve cared in the last six months of you doing it.” 

The sky has started to lighten considerably and Clarke can hear the faint rustle of the guard switches, “I guess I’ll see you at lunch then?” 

“Yeah, if you decide to actually show up for once.” 

She knew he wasn’t teasing, that he had been serious when he had said that, but part of her couldn’t up but tease him in response. It made the end of their conversations lighter. When she would roll her eyes and saunter off as if the weight of her actions didn’t weigh her down at all possible times. If there had been access to someone who had a better understanding of the mind they probably would have told her that she had started to process her trauma poorly. She had relied on typical coping mechanisms to hide how bad she had gotten and projected all the positivity around her on to other people. In her mind she had convinced herself that she wasn’t worthy. Unfortunately, said professionals were not among them in Arkadia or Mount Weather. The job was almost obsolete in the Ark, because they relied on stimulants laced within their food to keep these mental conditions under control and if someone had been debilitated by them or dangerous because of them they were considered expendable and invisible. 

Everything was different on the ground. 

* * *

“Where is she sending you now?” 

He turned casually towards the soft feminine voice at the doorway, “To Polis, the Commander has requested our Ambassador and three guests.” 

She snorted; “So now you’re an honored guest?” 

“No,” he said as he continued to fold up his maps and set them atop his pouch, “it’s just my mission to appear like an honored guest.” 

“So you’re back to running missions for  _ her  _ then?” 

“I don’t have a choice O, it’s my job as a warrior to protect the interests of my Queen.” He finally turned to face her; his sister with a warrior spirit and cursed to live a servant's life hidden away to reconcile for their mothers sins. “And it’s your job as one of her scullery maids to keep from prying into the business of the Queen.” 

She sauntered over to his bedding and threw herself down. “That’s a fancy word for the kitchen bitch.” 

“Stop talking like that.” 

She shrugged and then helped him continue to pack the old worn leather pouch, “So what’s going on in Polis?” 

He let out a deep and heavy sigh; “The Sky People are becoming the thirteenth clan.”  At that he watched his sisters eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, “The Sky People? As in, Wanheda?” 

“As in, stop listening to the local gossip and yes.” 

“Come on Bell! It’s all I can really do around here.” He ignored her complaint and continued to set aside the belongings he needed. “The Queen thinks that Wanheda is the solution to her imminent death, doesn’t she?” 

Her brother paused and nodded once, but that was all he admitted to saying on the matter. Bellamy and his sister Octavia grew up in the slums of Ice Nation. Their mother had, at one point, been an important asset to Nia the Queen of Azgeda. Aurora was a tell-tale, a spy for Nia throughout the villages and neighboring clans. Aurora was beautiful in her own right with sleek dark hair, high cheekbones and pale skin. Her most distinguished physical attribute was her hazel eyes, not quite the distinct brown that many clan members had but not light and mysterious like some of the descendants of the first war had. She had grown up alongside Nia and at one point trained to become a warrior, but her striking features and deadly skill in silent killing had made her an invaluable pawn in the monarchy’s quest for control. 

Her missions started off simple enough. Blend into the Woods Clan and determine their strength in numbers, mingle with the Delphi People and plant the seed of betrayal from Glowing Forest, or sometimes it would be as simple as sneak into the Broad Leaf clan and assassinate their leaders second in command or third in command and so on. Eventually though, her missions became more intense. She was expected to create relationships with suspected enemies and become physically close with them before assassinating them. Aurora eventually became known as the tell-tale of mayhem, but she had always gotten the job done. It was no secret that the father of her children were different men and it was not hard to figure out how the children came to be, but she loved them all the same. Aurora raised her children to the best of her ability, she believed in no reward without work and loyalty to their people. 

Then Queen Nia had brought in the girl Ontari. Nia had her thoughts twisted and mutated the longer she remained in power and soon the satisfaction of ruling Azgeda was no longer enough! Because of the belief in the flame Nia could never truly rule over the twelve clans, nor could her son Roan, but if they could prepare a true candidate for the conclave it could ensure Azgeda victory. Nia had needed volunteers to train with Ontari, children sacrifices intended to fail and the queen had sought out Octavia at the age of seven. Aurora fought valiantly against it, begged and pleaded to not put her daughter through that. Her words fell on deaf ears and soon the rational and controlled training instilled within Aurora’s being turned desperate. In the end Ontari was a child and Aurora was a murderer and her children had to bear witness to her public execution. 

From that day forward Bellamy would be trained to become a warrior of Azgeda and Octavia a servant. By the time Bellamy had reached adulthood he had earned his rank amongst the warriors and had intended to pay for the release of his sister from her servitude, the payment had been fifty lashes to the back, but when he had been released so had Octavia. While his sister was still expected to work for the monarch she had been able to live with her brother, but so much time had already passed that neither sibling knew how to live a normal life. Octavia felt trapped within the walls of Nia’s control and had never been given the chance to truly meet people or befriend them. The sting of her mothers’ actions followed her wherever she went. And Bellamy had been forced to handle the queen’s beck and call! Missions and battles and raids of neighboring clans and villages. He had been a picture perfect soldier and loyal subject to a deranged and evil ruler. 

“What aren’t you telling me Bellamy?” Octavia waited for her brother's reply, but it never came, he ignored her as he threw his pack over his shoulder. He was out the door before she could pester him some more, but not before he had placed a kiss to her forehead. Her thoughts ran rampant, the Sky People joining the coalition would mean that anyone attempting to collect the bounty on the Commander of Death would be tried and executed for treason. There was still something that seemed out of place about the news, something that didn’t add up. Octavia fell asleep uneasily that night. 


	2. where would i start?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to chapter two of the joyride, thanks for staying. Just as a heads up, this is endgame Bellarke -I updated the tags for you all that kindly asked. Sorry to dissappoint, but there is going to be some Clexa throughout the early plot. Which really means nothing if its not endgame, but it does make me excited to work on some of the one-shots I had planned for those two. Happy reading folks! PS; anyone else need to talk about the series finale... or is it just me?

They met mid-morning just before the sun had peaked. They did so every week and while Nathan Miller felt that it was shady, he still complied. These meetings were the unofficial council meetings of Arkadia; the meetings that allowed for discussion to be unfiltered and personal concerns were met and dealt with. The only two members not included were Raven and Clarke, because Raven wasn’t suited to handle the heavier decisions the council had to make and Clarke never slept at night. So the remaining members sat around the same table as always and discussed. The discussion had originally been on how to handle the split in population between Mount Weather and Arkadia, but given the circumstances of the previous evening it was apparent that the discussion would be following a different course that morning.

“Obviously we can’t let Clarke go.” Abby stated, her no nonsense voice and cool gaze settled on the other council members in attendance as if to challenge them. “I don’t trust the commander or Indra and I don’t want her going alone.”

“Well she wouldn’t be going alone Abby, she’d have us with her.”

Abby looked over at Marcus and shrugged, “It’s not the same.”

Lincoln -adjacent from Abby, spoke up, “I understand your hesitance but, think about the benefits for your people.”

“It all means nothing if Clarke gets hurt!”

Miller snorted from beside Lincoln; “An astonishing concept, with all due respect Abby, Clarke is already hurting and you didn’t show the same concern when you stuffed all of u-”

“Throwing the sins of our past in our face isn’t going to create a solution for us.” Marcus cut him off sternly. And while everyone at the table had the same understanding it still stung that it had to be said. “I think Abby’s concern is legitimate, we don’t know very much about Lexa.”

“I grew up with her.” Lincoln started off, his voice with a hint of steel and his eyes hard. “We lived within a stone throw away from each other until we were about six or seven. Right around the time when the children start learning their trades to contribute to their clan is when the _Fleimkepa_ arrived.”

“What is a fleimkepa?”

“They’re a spiritual order that protects the flame.” It was apparent that none of the sky people understood what Lincoln had said, so he figured in order to make them understand he’d have to backtrack and paint the bigger picture. “The flame is the essence of our belief system, it’s what guides our commanders and it’s how we keep the peace. The very first commander was _Bekka Pramheda_ and she came to be during the recovery of the ground after the war. After her death it was the job of _Kalliope Pramfleimkepa_ to keep the flame safe until a worthy descendant could possess it and the knowledge that came from our first commander. It’s rumored that _she_ is the true founder of the clans and helped the original members of Trikru adapt to life on earth after the apocalypse. It was found that only those with black blood could truly possess the powers of the flame and so began the collection of children that had this nightblood. Fleimkepa’s would gather them to Polis and then train them in preparation for the conclave and then ascension. This way when a commanders’ time on the ground is over the candidates can prepare for the process in which the flame chooses its next host. From there the victor of the conclave proceeds to the sacred ceremony of having the flame placed within them. Once the flame resides inside a commander they are no longer who they were before. They are the commanders of the past and must always prepare for the future of their people. They think of nothing else but the success of their people, their emotions and inner selves are sacrificed to the flame and hidden away.”

Miller contemplated the information before he inquired, “When you say conclave do you mean…”

“I mean a fight to the death, yes.” Lincoln let the newest piece of information absorb before he continued. “When Lexa had been taken from Trikru she was a girl that had an infinite devotion for adventure and loved deeply. When she had won the conclave to become the Commander it was not only a great honor for Trikru but relief as well. I truly believe that the Lexa I once knew is still in her heart.”

“That doesn’t negate the fact that this could very well be a trap. After all, the rumor is that Clarke is this commander of death and that her spirit could enable someone to beat death itself in their own life.”

Miller sat forward; “While in my head I can see how this would be the perfect opportunity to eliminate a threat of that magnitude, my gut is saying that is not the case.”

“Even if it were, she’d have the best security detail protecting her and Miller would be in the room with us.” Marcus looked at Abby and placed his hand over hers affectionately. “She wouldn’t be going alone.”

“Listen, Abby, I get it.” Miller started once more, “I love Clarke like a sister and I promise with everything I have to make sure nothing bad happens to her. Our people need this alliance, we would never survive the winter without it.”

“Alright, alright,” Abby conceded tiredly, “but I’m not going to like it.”

“Nobody said you had to, you just have to trust us.” Marcus stated fondly.

It appeared that nobody else wanted to dwell on the topic at hand, much to Abby’s disgruntled insistence. Rather, they wanted to focus on ways of encouraging those who insisted on staying behind in Arkadia to transition into the mountain. It was assumed -and confirmed by Lincoln, that the agreements of the treaty would more than likely insist about Sky People land labeled along the mountain property. As the fences were still up it proved to be the most simple way to ensure a known barrier for the surrounding clans. At the moment Arkadia rested directly in the middle of a border between two clans, one of which being _Trikru_. If Lexa had planned to release pieces of land from the clans it could mean another conflict within her council.

From there they discussed the minimum terms of agreement needed to secure the treaty. Obviously the first and foremost point that had been discussed was the everlasting piece between the sky people and the other twelve clans of the coalition. Again, Lincoln had confirmed that would be the goal, but there were plenty of clans outside of the coalition that could cause conflict and in those events it would be expected that their people would release resources needed for war. It wasn’t the reassurance that Abby wanted to hear, but it was realistic. From there it was the promise of assistance during the upcoming winter. Space didn’t have seasons! Sure the Ark had the technology to simulate the standard changes to match the Earth. There wasn’t rain or snow, the temperature was always cold and empty, but that was a side effect of their lack of true environment.

“What are winters like here Lincoln?”

“Cold and wet, but it’s not unlivable. Really what you need to secure is material to create warmer clothing and bedding, but the bunker in the mountain could very well be equipped for such changes.”

“Not likely,” Miller stated easily, “those people lived in that bunker without ever even touching the ground and the technology isn’t nearly as sophisticated as what we’re used to working with, but it definitely had the ability to stabilize a living climate.”

Abby tapped her finger on the table steadily, “What about illness? I’ve only ever studied them in theory, but according to the texts there are dozens of possible illnesses during the colder seasons. From what I remember they were also easily transmutable.”

“That is true,” a stern female voice cut in from the doorway, “pardon my interruption Chancellor.”

Marcus took a look over at Abby who seemed to keep her eyes on the table and shoulders stiff. It was apparent to everyone in the room that Abby made it known Indra was not a welcome guest, but if the idea of peace truly meant something to them something had to be done. “No worries, please have a seat.” Marcus motioned towards one of the empty chairs on the other end of the table and in gratitude Indra nodded and proceeded to sit down. “So these illnesses, are they particularly dangerous?”

Indra shook her head shortly, “I wouldn’t say so, but they can be if your body isn’t prepared. We see that most of the worst cases are in the younger of the children and the elderly.”

“My village has a healer, Nyko, and I’m sure once the treaty is finalized he’d be more than happy to offer more insight for you.”

“Thank you Lincoln.” Abby smiled fondly at the grounder. While it was true she regarded them distantly, not quite ready to consider them actual people, she had warmed up to Lincoln. He had proven to be fiercely protective of her people, especially the kids, and he was willing to teach anyone anything! His insights had become one of the most valuable things on the ground.

“Chancellor,” Abby’s attention was drawn back to Indra, “the technology you people utilized is nothing I’ve ever seen before, how come your concern is our common cold?”

It was a valid question, Abby mused to herself. “Because the Ark was so condensed in population any illness had to be treated as life threatening immediately. Our technology is advanced, but our resources were extremely limited. Medicine was closely controlled and monitored and each person was allotted a certain amount per year, once you reached your maximum there was nothing else that we could do other than monitor the condition.”

“I assume within these stations, you’d initiate some kind of sick space, where individuals would be sent to work through an illness?”

“Yes, exactly, we established quarantine spaces throughout each station. Now, by time my training and education had been completed our climate had already been stabilized and yearly illnesses like this were almost obsolete, which made them incredibly deadly if they did come around.” Abby looked around the table at her fellow council members. Sometimes it felt almost surreal that they were no longer in space in a stabilized and perfected climate, but there she sat with someone as young as Miller advising her people.

Indra pondered and observed those at the table around her. The sky people intrigued her, as they did many of the grounders. They were skittish and untrained. She had doubted their existence would make such a large difference in the beginning, but after the fire that claimed three hundred warriors lives she had realized her ignorance had to be adjusted. During the original talks of peace between them and the sky people she had also questioned their capability. They didn’t understand justice! The sky people held no respect for the grounder culture or way of life! They made decisions based entirely off of emotion and heart and their existence would have proven to be a hindrance to the coalition. And then the missile hit TonDC and the mountain men had offered an exchange of their people for the sky people.

To Indra the change in opinion towards these new people was not because they as a whole impressed her. It was just the children that impressed her. And she had felt a sudden urge to protect the prospective new members of their society and to better understand them. That had been her entire reasoning for voting yes towards Lexa’s motion. The promise that their younger generation held? The desire and fight to stay alive was palpable, even to the clans that were further out in the land. Surviving was admired to the grounders and the children of the sky had proven themselves worthy. Indra could not have cared less about their adults, their supposedly ‘rightful’ leaders. If the heavy guilt layered within Abby’s description of illness on the Ark was any indication it was clear that they didn’t value life. They valued progress.

Still the warrior remained present for the rest of their meeting. She answered their questions and they in turn answered hers. The first half of her mission had been to share the invitation with them, the piece in between had been to gather as much information on the differences in their customs and beliefs to her own and the second half would be to ensure their safety during their travels. She had to prepare properly for the anticipated attacks on Clarke. While the anger at the young fair-skinned beauty for the damages done at TonDC still simmered just below the surface it was no more present for her than it was for Lexa. The meeting ended just before late morning and just moments before the girl with the limp, Raven, stumbled in looking frazzled and half awake.

“What are you all doing here?” She paused and looked around and then her eyes settled on Indra. “What is _she_ doing here?”

Miller responded quickly, “We were waiting for you and Clarke to get up so we could finalize some details with Indra.” The warrior in turn received the subtle signs and pretended that she had also just arrived. “Have you seen her?”

“Who? Indra? I’m looking right at her.”

“No, Clarke, I didn’t see her before I went off to bed last night and she wasn’t at breakfast this morning.”

Raven snorted and threw herself into her seat unceremoniously, “Probably because she never eats breakfast or dinner.”

“She eats dinner,” Lincoln chimed in easily, “she just prefers to eat outdoors and away from the crowd.”

“A warrior should be eating with balance.” Indra said, tone laced with confusion; “Is it common practice for your people to skip meals?”

“My daughter eats!” Abby insisted awkwardly, “She wouldn’t be irresponsible like that and Lincoln just said she eats with him.”

“No,” Lincoln rebuttals, “I said she eats outdoors and away from the crowd.”

“Are you all talking about me again? Seriously?”

Marcus and Abby both literally flinch at her voice from the doorway, but Miller and Raven chuckled fondly while Lincoln sent her a greeting. Indra watched as she approached the table and took a seat, “Graceful as ever Princess.” Miller quipped and Clarke responded by flipping up her middle finger to him. “Now that you’re here we can finish up some travel details.”

“Sounds exciting, first things first, Indra when do we set off?”

Indra shrugged, “I’d prefer as soon as possible, but we don’t have to leave until late afternoon.”

“Late afternoon puts us closer to sunset, I’d like to get as much travelling done during the day as possible.”

“I agree.” Miller stated before he pulled out a piece of parchment. “Here’s the list of guard members travelling with us. Factoring in their presence plus the forty or so warriors we’ve _seen_ with Indra we should have all angles covered.”

“Do you always prepare for an ambush Miller?” Indra asked in amusement -she was only slightly impressed.

“Of course, it’s how we’ve made it this far. Plus, you’re the one that told us someone put a hit out on Clarke. There’s no way we’d take that lightly.”

Clarke cleared her throat, “Which is appreciated, but I’m really not that worried. Polis isn’t that far, but daytime travel makes it ideal to do some plant cataloging.”

Raven rolled her eyes; “Is Monty aware that he’s not even going to be in charge of the greenery? Kid is way too smart to be wasting his time plowing fields and growing beans.”

“I wasn’t aware we were thinking of assigning Monty to anywhere else.” Marcus replied in confusion, as far as he knew the kid mentioned grew up in Agro station and his parents had a true talent when it came to food supply. “Does he not want to be part of agriculture?”

“I’m sure he’d be happy there,” Clarke and Raven hedged at the same time, before Clarke motioned for Raven to continue, “but he has a real brain you know?”

Clarke sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “What Raven is trying to say is that Monty lived in Agro and has the same skill set his parents had, but he could be used elsewhere with more benefit. Currently he wants me to see if there are any plants that we haven’t encountered yet between here and Polis; he thinks that if we can collect them and work with them we may be able to create preventives for certain illnesses.”

Raven held her arms out towards Clarke in excitement; “See! Real brain!”

Abby mulled the thought around for a moment and interrupted Marcus, who had been in the midst of reviewing travel supplies, to say, “If his theory works we could help the grounders as well, I’m sure one of the reasons Lexa is pushing for the alliance is for her benefit as well.”

“That’s a benefit for people Mom, not just for a peace treaty and it’s good!” Clarke and Abby shared a rare moment of understanding and a small smile before Clarke turned back to Marcus to indicate she had started listening to him again.

By the time everything finished the travelling members of the council had to hurry along to pack what they’d need. It was while Clarke had started packing a small pouch of spare clothing -with the little she had to consider spare, and some parchment and pencils, she had finally been able to think about the trip. It had been months since she’d last seen Lexa and while she had nightmares about that night she didn’t feel afraid. There was a small part of her that hoped some of the fire between herself and the commander would remain. To have a woman as powerful as her take a sincere interest in someone as little as Clarke felt? It was kind of exhilarating, if she could ever move on from the abandonment. She finished packing and had made the move to meet the others at the gate and had anticipated being the last one.

She had physically walked Miller and the other guard that were expected to make the trip over to the medical tent to ensure that they each received their own survival kit -a needed precaution, she reminded her mother who had begun to fret. From there she had been delayed because her mother needed to talk with her, needed to make her understand. Clarke had begun to avoid her mother during these talks. It had always been about Clarke’s ignorance and Clarke’s immaturity and Clarke’s youth. It was always ‘Clarke you must listen to reason’ or ‘Clarke you simply can’t do these things’ and ‘Clarke you need to understand’. The discussion was never returned; no matter how often Clarke tried. So when her mother started with; “Hey baby, can we talk?” in that soft and condescending tone that she used both in private and public to humiliate her daughter, Clarke knew what to expect.

“What’s up Mom?”

Abby led Clarke to an empty bed and motioned for her to sit down -like a child, and then stood across from her with her lower back against the desk on the wall -arms crossed and ready to lecture, like the adult she was. Clarke had to fight to roll her eyes. “I just wanted to remind you to be safe and listen to Marcus while in Polis.”

“If he says jump should I ask how high?”

“Clarke,” her mother scolded briefly before she sighed, “I know you think you can make these big decisions on your own, but honey, you’re still so young! I just worry that this trip could give you some ideas.”

Clarke laughed darkly; “What ideas mom? That my word is worth something to another leader? That idea? Or the idea that I’m the one Lexa wanted to see, not you? Because so far they’re not ideas, they’re reality.”

“And I’m very proud of both of those realities! You’re my baby Clarke and I just want you to be safe.” Abby loved to pull the ‘worried parent’ card whenever she felt her ground had shifted. Clarke had long ago learned to ignore the guilt trip. “I’m just asking you to listen to reason.”

“And I’m asking you to back off.” Clarke snapped out, her patience worn thin and her tolerance at zero. “I may be your daughter, but I am _not_ your little girl anymore. I have proven my capability to do what must be done for my people threefold and I don’t need to listen to your reasoning. I love you Mom, but _you_ have to understand, I’m going to Polis to secure a peace treaty and I will do _whatever_ it is I have to do to ensure that it holds. You should be familiar with that concept.” And it’s a cheap shot, Clarke knew that, but it felt right in the moment.

The goodbyes at the gate had been standoffish and awkward. The stiffness of her mom's arms wrapped around her made Clarke want to scream, but what had been said was the truth. Just like when her mom pulled back and kissed her forehead with her face tucked between surgeon hands and said; “I love you Clarke.” she knew it was the truth.

“I love you too Mom.”

* * *

Bellamy had been in Polis for a total of three hours and seventeen minutes before shit hit the fan. He had been chatting with the cute bartender at the only place to get a hold of ale in the entire city when he felt a sturdy and heavy hand slap against his shoulder. At the moment, Azgeda was not openly welcome amongst the everyday person, and Bellamy understood this. His people were assholes. He just hadn’t anticipated someone to approach him at a bar -with the cute and unspoken for tender present, to start a fight. And then the deep surly voice that went with the hand greeted him and Bellamy’s anxiety (and annoyance) tripled, “My, my, what a shock it is to see you here in Polis Bellamy.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and turned towards the man; “What the fuck are you doing here Roan?”

Roan, the banished son of Nia (Queen of Azgeda) stood and opened his arms wide. “Is that any way to greet your prince?”

“You were banished,” Bellamy grumbled and then turned to pick up his drink, disheartened to see that his potential conquest had wandered off to help someone else and depressed that Roan had taken the seat next to him, “I’m pretty sure that means you’re no longer titled.”

Roan shrugged; “Semantics, now tell me why you’re so far away from home?”

“I was invited.”

“By who? You were never one to make friends, hard to imagine you managed to do so all the way in Polis. Do you still respond to my mother's beck and call? How is she doing? Dead yet?”

Bellamy turned and glared at Roan, “You know as well I do that discussion on the Queen’s health is off the table. Now what do you want?”

“An ale and the chance to catch up with an old war buddy.”

Buddies, Bellamy thought to himself, was not the term he’d give Roan. Though it was true that they had grown up together, loosely speaking. They were close in age, the difference being Roan was older by two or three years, and they did serve as Ice Nation Warriors together. They also both flew up the ranks with equal vigor and impressiveness. Where Bellamy was charismatic and magnifying and inspiring, Roan was inappropriate, a little abrasive and intimidating. Additionally; where Bellamy was complacent with Nia, Roan was hard pressed against her. It didn’t stop the prince from following the laws of Nia, but it also didn’t stop him from acting on his own as well. When the Ice Nation was presented with the chance to join the coalition after a long and brutal war (which their queen started) -which they fought in valiantly, it was to banish Roan and have peace or fight on. Bellamy had thought for sure that the war would never end, but in the blink of an eye, Nia had agreed to the terms. Now Bellamy can see how it was all a ploy, just another step in her grand scheme, but at the time it had infuriated him.

“Well if that’s what this is,” Bellamy grunted as he slapped his mug against Roan’s, “how is life as a rogue?”

“I have access to any woman I fancy and I answer to no one. How do you think it is Bell?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

And so the two sat and drank for an hour or so, just long enough to be composed and friendly, before Bellamy stood up and announced his departure. It was as he stepped away from the bar that Roan shot his hand out; “You’re here because of the initiation, correct?”

“Yes, as a selected representative of Azgeda.”

Roan nodded once and then looked around lightly; “Meet me on the south side of the guest corridors tonight when the moon is midsky.”

Bellamy squeezed his eyes shut for a second and shook his head; “I can’t Roan, I can’t get involved in whatever plot you’re putting together.”

Roan laughed and threw back the rest of his drink before he slammed the cup to the hard wooden top of the bar. “I’ll see you tonight.”

When the moon did reach its midpoint within the night sky Bellamy snuck out of his assigned accommodation and found Roan on the south side of the corridor. They didn’t speak, not with the guards that were stationed strategically to hear such noise, instead Roan nodded his head towards a room off to the side hall and motioned for Bellamy to follow. Once they were in the room Roan lit a singular candle for light, he called it ambiance, Bellamy called it dramatic. “Alright Roan, what’s this all about?”

“Business as always with you.” Roan bit back before he checked out the window -all in precaution, he reminded himself, “I was hired by our commander to play intervention throughout the initiation. It appears that Lexas’ circle of ambassadors highly object to the joining of Skaikru to the coalition.”

“Link explained that already on our journey here.”

“Very good and I’m sure they two of the conspired something before they selected their representatives for the initiation, am I right?”

Bellamy nodded, “There are conditions and I am on a mission for your mother, yes, but they’re conditional.”

Roan laughed darkly, “Nothing is conditional with my mother. Tell me, Bellamy, what is your mission?”

“You know I can’t talk about it Roan.”

“Well I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Bellamy quirked an eyebrow and crossed the room to an empty chair, though he didn’t sit, “If the initiation is delayed due to a split vote, Link is calling upon the rights of favor and challenging Lexa to an alliance of marriage between Skaikru and another clan.”

“Ah,” Roan mused as he cut Bellamy off, “so then Lexa knew that someone would already have created this plan. Lexa hired me to ensure that Wanheda is kept safe and to see that there is no challenge, forcing the marriage between the commander and _Wanheda_ herself.”

Bellamy sat down and sighed heavily, though it sounded more like a groan of frustration to Roan. “So you play assassin in the night for the three day period it takes to form the challenge?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Roan sat across from Bellamy and leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the flats of his thighs. “If the girl and Lexa were to marry the ground to rights of favor would be proven correct, right?”

“Yeah, essentially, but once the rights are called and the challenge is held it’s moot. The last standing warrior is the last standing warrior.”

“So then you have to be the last standing warrior.”

“Your mother wants to drain this girl of her blood to become immortal.”

For all that Roan anticipated Bellamy would say, it certainly wasn’t that and it must have shown on his face because the ragged haired warrior pressed on. “My mission is to nominate myself as a challenger once Link calls the rights and to win at all costs. Once I marry the girl it’s expected that she comes back to Azgeda with me and that’s when your mother will come in to play.”

“Which may just have to be a reality for a short while.”

Bellamy groaned again; “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Roan smiled with pride, “Once my mission is executed Lexa will lift my banishment and I’m free to return to Azgeda. We both know that blood isn’t going to save my mother's life, she may not have come to peace with it yet, but she is dying.”

“In case you forgot,” Bellamy bit out as he started to pace, “your mission is to ensure that Lexa marries Wanheda, not me.”

“Unless Wanheda makes a choice.”

“No, no, no, no.” Bellamy frantically said with his hand in his hair. He tugged and pulled in utter frustration, “I’m not going to deceive our commander and I’m sure as fuck not going to let you play matchmaker! How would you even make that work? You know what, no, I don’t want to know. I’m out.”

“If you fight in the challenge and die who is going to take care of your sister?”

At that Bellamy stopped at the door and sighed, but Roan pressed on. “I haven’t met this girl yet, but if what I hear is true? She’ll do anything for her people Bellamy and that’s all we need to know to get her to choose you over Lexa before it comes to a fight.”

“Then we just let your mother kill her?”

Roan snorted, “Always so god damn dramatic, no we don’t just let my mother kill her! We get her to cooperate with my disillusioned mother until I can come home and put a stop to it. _If_ she dies in the meantime it would be unfortunate, but it doesn’t change the fact that Azgeda would have a much more promising and _peaceful_ future. Isn’t that what you want? To live in peace and not have people cower away from just because your Ice Nation and your queen is a psycho?”

“Fuck.” Bellamy grunted as he ripped the door open. He turned and faced Roan with a glare. “If this doesn’t work I’m going to fucking kill you, understand?”

Bellamy had barely cleared the hall when he bumped into a small servant girl. At least he assumed it was a small servant girl, the hood of her cloak was pulled up so he wasn’t able to see, but her clothing had been in poor condition and she backed away almost immediately upon touching him. “ _Ai laik sorry_.”

Ordinarily, Bellamy would have taken the time to be a little charming, but his irritation was unhinged and instead he bit out a quick, “ _Watch em_.”

He felt her glare as he stomped away further down the corridor. It was probably a good thing, if he had turned around he definitely would have seen her flip him off and definitely would have heard her mutter of ‘asshole’. And then he’d definitely would have had to retaliate, but really, Clarke hated those kinds of guys. And she may have hoped he tripped going down the stairs, but the silence that followed his departure showed her that wishful thinking is useless on the ground. Good thing she was used to disappointments too.


	3. we spoke last night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks! Before you get to the enjoyment of the next installment of this piece I would like to take a moment to apologize. Although my original set up of this story was not intentinoally misleading, it had come off in that way and there was some rather rude feedback that came from it -all of which has been removed, but completely validated. For clarification purposes, I meant no harm or ill when I had set up the relationship tags, I suppose I'm just an old school tagger? I tagged what was going to happen throughout the storyline -same within the general tags as well. I also would like to apologize for the original excerpt; it was always meant to be temporary, but it was sincerely the most interesting part of this story that I had already written vs. me trying to come up with something and forcing it to work in future chapters. At no point was it meant to be perceived as malicious or "attention seeking". My sincerest sorry to those that started this piece on the wrong foot and were disappointed with it and the handlings of its presentation. So now, if you're still here, thank you! If you're just joining in, this notation is completely irrelevant to you, but thank you anyway! Enjoy!

The journey to Polis had started off uneventful and even a little boring. Indra and her warriors flanked and surrounded the sky people -obviously an intentional power move to show any other travelers that they were protected by the commander, and nobody had allowed Clarke to even attempt and catalog the plants along the way. However it wasn’t a total bust, she had been able to talk with some of the warriors that traveled with them. She learned some of their favorite hobbies that didn’t involve killing unarmed children and had been told what to expect upon entering Polis.

“There are shops that line the pathways all throughout the heart of the city! Trading posts too, if there’s anything you see you like _Wanheda_ , just let me know I’d be happy to get it for you.” Everything sounded wonderful, except for the new found nickname.

“It’s just Clarke, but thank you Tristan.”

“It’s not proper for me to call you Clarke.” Tristan said as he took a bite of the jerky from his travel pack, he ripped a piece off from the other end and passed it along to her without breaking stride and Clarke took it appreciatively. “You’ve earned the right to be called the Commander of Death; think of it like an honorable thing.”

“Doesn’t feel it, but thank you.”

From there they walked on in a companionable silence. Clarke had insisted that they travel straight through, she wanted to arrive at Polis as soon as possible (so that they could leave as soon as possible). And just as the sun was about to set, the rustle of the leaves changed direction and a scout from Indras’ numbers had rushed back to let them know he spotted people further along the path. In the moments that followed Clarke had been shoved and hidden away and watched as the trained warriors prepared to strike. It was only when she heard the familiar voices of her friends that Clarke broke from her camouflage.

“Wells!” She yelled in glee as she launched herself into her best friends arms. Despite his confusion he had quickly reciprocated and then he had to dodge a swarm of voices all at once. Indra yelled at Clarke about taking needless risks and Marcus had yelled at the new found sky people for sneaking up on them and Murphy had snarked at the welcoming committee being a little cooler than he expected. “What are you guys doing here?”

Murphy responded to Clarkes’ question before Wells had processed it (he always did get distracted by too much at once). “Headed back to camp, but the better question is where are you going Princess?”

“Just because I missed you doesn’t mean I won’t hit you for calling me that.” she grumbled fondly before addressing his question, “We’re on our way to Polis for peace talks with the Commander.”

“We’ll join you. Although I figured we’d have already fine tuned the alliance details by now.”

“I don’t think so!” Indra snapped as she approached the group of young adults. Marcus had also scrambled over to them with Stevens not far behind. “The Commander is expecting a set amount of representatives of your people and wouldn’t like the intrusion.”

Wells stepped toe to toe with the warrior; “And I need to have words with your commander or we’re going to have a bigger problem on our hands.”

“We found survivors! But, not before they managed to do some damage.” Zoe exclaimed as she too stepped forward.

“Explain.” Marcus bit out in frustration. It seemed that Indra’s demands were ignored as they proceeded to walk up the path some more.

Indra had been about to protest but Clarke reached for her sleeve, “Please, they don’t have to be involved with the formalities, but they’ve been looking for survivors from the Ark since before the fall of the mountain.”

“Against my better judgement I’ll allow it.” Indra stated as she motioned for her men and women to get back into formation. “ _Teik’s go_!”

As the group -now larger by five, began to enter the last leg of the stretch Clarke, Marcus and Miller had finally been able to gather all the information they needed from their reconnected group. “So Pike went off his rocker?”

Wells nodded; “Dude is scary with how much he hates the grounders. He has his own little following too from some of the survivors he found.”

Miller snorted, “The man was a teacher, how useful can he be in a hostile environment?”

“We were just children and look at what we did. Not to mention he literally taught Earth Skills.” Clarke reminded him from her place on Wells’ right side, “So who is currently with Pike?”

“Monty’s mother and a few others from Agro Station.”

“So their numbers are small,” Marcus pondered, “where did you say they were headed?”

Zoe answered from her position towards the rear; “We directed them towards Camp Jaha!”

Indra followed up Zoe’s response with a question of her own, “Should we be worried that these extremists rest amongst your people?”

“Yes.” Murphy bit out, “It’s why Golden Boy needs to talk to your commander.”

“It probably would have been better if one of you went back with them.”

“We were, until we met up with you.”

Clarke stopped short and turned towards Stevens; “Go to Mount Weather, warn my mother and make sure that eyes are kept on Pike and his people every second of everyday.”

“Got it, mind if I take Costa with me?”

“No, it’s better to work in pairs.”

Miller turned to inspect the guards he had selected and pointed at two from the rear; “Go with them! We’ll replace your spots with Wells and Murphy this way our only unplanned guest is Zoe.”

“Surely Lexa won’t mind me bringing my friend Zoe along, right Indra?”

Indras’ nostrils flared with the same bit of anger as when Clarke and Lexa reappeared after the missile landed on TonDC. Though this time she had the liberty of being able to say or do something against Clarke. Instead she took a deep breath and nodded once; “I think we should stop here for the evening. My men are surely hungry and this kind of travel is not familiar for you or your people either.”

“Perfect! It’ll give us a chance to discuss this issue in further detail.” Clarke smiled brightly as she walked ahead of Indra. She had started to gather small bits of wood, though she didn’t want to stray too far. The first lesson she had been taught on the ground had been to remain skeptical of her surroundings despite how peaceful they appear. It was clear that Indra and Miller remained skeptical as well. So much so that Miller had gripped Clarkes’ arm and pulled her out from the foliage and directed her towards the center of camp.

“We don’t know who or what could be in these woods, so sit and stay.”

“I’m not a dog Miller.”

“Sit.” He pointed towards the sleep roll that had been spread out for her and while she was incredibly tempted to stand with her arms crossed over her chest ready to fight for as long as possible, she was only able to pull it off for a minute or two before she grunted and sat down. “Now stay.”

Clarke chucked a pebble at Millers’ retreating form with a laugh. Moments later Wells and Murphy found themselves on either side of Clarke and the trio spent the majority of the night in close and quiet discussion. Occasionally they had to call in Marcus or Indra for input. The concern with Charles Pike was that he had been their teacher and he had earned the trust of almost every adult on the Ark by principle. If he did manage to gain more followers and they did go out and do something stupid all the hard work in Polis would be for nothing. It had been Indra that reminded them of their position, their chance to tell Lexa before anything even happened.

“We don’t know what they did before we found them.”

“What they did before they rejoined your people is their responsibility, not yours.” Indra replied coolly as she poked at the fire. “Where did you find them?”

“We aren’t sure whose territory we were in, but the warriors were like no other clan we’ve seen before.” Wells gestured towards his face, “They used white war paint to cover their features and masks and they all wore heavy furs.”

Indra cursed low under her breath, “Ice Nation; they’re going to be the biggest opponents to the alliance.”

“I thought the alliance was already finalized, what’s going on Clarke?”

Clarke patted Wells on the arm gently, “You missed a whole lot since you left camp.”

“Apparently…” he grumbled out, but wasn’t able to further ask any questions as Clarke had already begun to explain.

“Things didn’t go as smoothly as we wanted when taking on Mount Weather. We ran into some complications with the commanders’ people as well, but hopefully this trip can clear all of that up.”

“So we didn’t get our people out?”

Marcus took pity on Clarkes’ discomfort and took over the explanation, “We did what we had to do and we did succeed in rescuing the surviving people.”

“How many did we lose?”

“We rescued forty-seven kids from inside the mountain. Everyone is on their way to making recoverings, but healing will be what takes the longest.”

“So then what’s the issue with these Ice Nation people? Shouldn’t they be thankful that we managed to take down a major enemy like that?”

“They put a bounty on me.” Clarke stated as simply as she could have stated the sky was blue. “Their leader thinks that if she can kill me she can harness whatever mystical power is within me and live forever.”

“Shit if that’s the case I could have killed you months ago.” Murphy quipped sarcastically. He hadn’t stopped munching on the small rabbit in his hands to do so, which made the essence of his comment that much funnier, but none of the official adults in the group found it entertaining at all. “I’m just saying.” he grumbled around his meal.

“I fail to see how this is funny.” Indra huffed. 

“It’s not funny,” Wells started, “in fact it is downright terrifying that your people just keep coming up for reasons to want to kill us! Still though, we can’t dwell on the frightening things we need to press forward. I assume that’s why the commander has called for a treaty with us and thus provided the escort of Clarke?”

“Yes.”

Murphy finally finished off his meal and resituated himself as he said “That’s good, because if this were a trap you’d be in some real trouble.”

“My warriors outnumber yours, do you really think if this were a trip you could counter attack?”

“I think we could take you,” he said as he threw himself down to his back and closed his eyes, “you forget that when you pushed our backs against a wall we lit three-hundred of your people on fire.”

“Murphy!” Clarke admonished with a slap to his chest. “There’s no reason to bait Indra like that, I _trust_ her. And we need this alliance!”

“I know Princess, but I’m just saying! We tried the peace talks before, right? And clearly whatever happened there fell through. So what happens if we get to Polis and the commander is in with the Ice Nation? Or worse, believes the same bullshit that they believe and wants to kill you for her own success and immortality?”

“Then we handle it,” and there’s a glint in Clarkes’ eyes that is unreadable to everyone except for Wells, “but there won’t be a reason for us to handle anything, right Indra?”

“I assure you that Lexa is seeking peace.”

“Then it’s settled, we'll finish out the last leg of the trip tomorrow morning. We will go into Polis and secure a sturdy and secure alliance that will help us survive the winter and then we will release any information that could be useful on Pike and his issues.” Marcus said as he also adjusted himself to get comfortable -as comfortable as he could get on the ground with just a simple blanket as protection from the elements. He got settled and watched as everyone did the same, the fires remained lit and it was apparent they were on familiar land. Marcus Kane fell asleep quickly, as did Murphy and most of the other warriors (with the exception being those put on watch). It was Clarke, Indra and Wells that remained awake until late into the night.

The trio sat in silence. Indra kept a watchful eye on everything going on around her, like a true leader would do. Wells stayed up to tend to the fire for as long as possible, while Clarke feigned sleep in her own bedroll. Hours later he too succumbed to the pull of exhaustion and sleep. Once his body relaxed and his breathing evened out Clarke peeled her eyes open, not shocked to see that Indra had kept to watching her closely. She moved slowly so she didn’t disturb anyone with her movements. Indra waited for her to sit up fully before she pried; “You should be resting, it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

Clarke simply nodded, it wasn’t that she didn’t know that already, but it wouldn’t make a difference. “No need to worry, I’m more of a night owl anyway.”

Indra nodded as Clarke probed at the fire with the same stick Wells had put down moments ago. “Do you still see their faces? Hear their voices?” Clarke remained silent in response, but the downcast and shadow of her eyes answered Indras’ question on their own. “You must find a way to honor them. It’s the hardest part of being a leader.”

Clarke swallowed thickly, “I’ve only ever done what’s needed of me. And I bear it so that they don’t have to.”

Neither woman said anything else for the rest of the night.

* * *

Polis emerged in the distance around midday for the travelers from Arkadia. At first it just seemed like a far off speck, but then as they got closer and closer the definition of the city came more into focus. The tower -which had obviously been constructed before the first apocalypse, stood tall and center and was marveled at by the sky people. Tristan had asked why they had been amazed by something as simple as the commanders tower, but it felt impossible to describe the experience. It was always hard to explain to someone from Earth what it had been like to live in the cold emptiness of space. Though they did all try; in the end Tristan had reassured them that he understood enough and that new places excited him as well. Then immediately following his acceptance the sounds of the city were heard through the surrounding trees. Metal clashed on metal and the rush of voices as they drowned each other out. There was sound from the livestock too!

Even the ground beneath their feet shifted. Remnants from the people who lived there prior to the apocalypse still rested, only now there were flowers and plants throughout the concrete cracks. Deconstructed buildings had been partially redone to convert themselves into shops and stands, stables for horses (actual, real _horses_!) and taverns. There were vendors all along the main pathway and it was apparent that one could barter for a good or trade, or even just purchase. It had felt incredibly overwhelming to the people who resided in a metal box and thrived on rationed goods. If it didn’t fulfill a specific need then it didn’t exist. Any good that existed outside of the realm of necessity were coveted and sparse. Just a reminder of the depravity that came with being a sky person.

The tower seemed incredible the closer they got! It probably allowed for a perfect view of the surrounding forest. The defense mechanisms were limited, something that surprised Clarke, it was an easy target and one would assume the best defenses would be placed around it to prevent it from being taken over or falling. The inside was just as impressive as the outside. Furnishing was minimal and the walls were a dingy and cold stone, but there was a pulley system to lift them through the floors in the event they didn’t want to take the stairs. Each floor served its own purpose. The first floor held the kitchens and washrooms for laundry. The second floor was designated for the live-in servants. The third and fourth floors held the armory and warriors quarters. The fifth floor would be where Lexas’ advisors ( _fleimkepa’s_ ) slept and the sixth floor was where the nightblood children slept and lived for their duration in Polis. Their training ended at a certain point and eventually they would be expected to return to their clans to follow out their duties regularly and expected to return for the conclave when the time arrived. The seventh and eight floors were set up to house ambassadors and guests. That would be where Marcus’ accommodations were and the other ambassadors from the twelve clans as well and then the representatives were spread out between the two floors as well. The ninth floor was where honored guests were housed -this would be where Clarke would rest, and the tenth floor held the throne room where all the meetings of the coalition took place. The room directly above that, the eleventh floor, held Lexa’s private living quarters and then the last two floors from above were used for private meetings and sacred rituals.

Overall the tower was functional. They sky people were escorted to the pulley system and hoisted up to the twelfth floor where Lexa had been anticipating their arrival. The floor held a singular habitable room, the others became more like balconies with barely any space to stand. Indra entered the room and bowed to her commander before she presented Clarke and her companions.

“ _Heda, ai bring yu skai kru.”_

Lexa turned from her position at the window and walked off to the side of a chair, her arms she kept folded at her low back, “ _Good, bants osir nau. Der ste much kom discuss.”_

Indra bowed once more and disappeared out of the room. The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn’t more than a moment before Lexa had motioned for her guests to take a seat along the opposite wall. The way they sat had the sun glaring in from the window and it hit Clarkes’ face and blinded her for a second. In the short time it took for her to adjust, Lexa felt her breath catch within her chest; the way Clarkes’ right eye shone like a clear lake had briefly distracted her. The moment was gone and over as Clarke sat further back in her seat this time giving Lexa the opportunity to see the coldness that rested in hre blue orbs. She noticed how small Clarke had looked, how prominent her elbows and collarbone were. She noticed the way her face concave in on itself when it used to be round and full. She used to be soft in her skin tone and now she looked sickly. Her hair lacked luster and now just rested, dull and dingy. It created a horrible bubble of guilt and shame and for a second Lexa forgot she was in a room with several other people.

“Clarke…” she called out softly in hopes that a glimpse of the girl she knew would still be there, but the fire had been extinguished and instead all she got in response was nod in acknowledgement. When it had become clear that the sky people waited on Lexa to speak she snapped from her internal desire and focussed instead on their senior man, their ambassador. “Have you given thought to my invitation?”

Marcus nodded once; “We are open to discussion, but we haven’t made an official decision just yet.”

“Wise of you to use caution Kane.” She smirked and then eyed up the rest of the party. “Who have you brought with you for this visit?”

“Of course you know Clarke and myself and I’m sure you remember Nathan Miller. Over there is John Murphy and Wells Jaha -two guards that were hand selected to ensure our safety and our remaining guard members were taken by Indras’ warriors to freshen up. Next to Clarke is Zoe Monroe.”

“I believe my invitation called for three representatives of your people.”

“We figured since my attendance was already expected that it would be good to have Zoe tag along if she were needed.” Clarke replied in a cold voice that left no room for argument.

“Of course,” Lexa conceded easily enough, she then attempted to redirect the mood of the room, “welcome to Polis! I am sure that in your time here you’ll find yourselves welcomed easily.”

“I’m sure we will.” Marcus smiled sincerely. “I’m assuming our talks of peace are not to remain this private or intimate.”

Lexa let out a small peaceful chuckle, “You are astute and correct. The official peace talks will begin tomorrow at dawn and then your initiation into the coalition will follow. We plan to celebrate this occasion with a feast afterward.”

“Excellent, I’m sure it will be a wonderful time.”

“Indeed,” Lexa stood and motioned for the people in front of her to do the same as she led them back towards the door, “come now, let me show you where you’ll be staying. We’ve prepared separate rooms for each of you.”

She led them to their respective spaces. Clarke had been the first to separate from the group. Her people waited in the hallway while Lexa showed her around her accommodations, but the younger woman assumed there would be more to it. She had been proven correctly when Lexa had reassured her that her safety was paramount. To which Clarke had told her she already knew, because Wells and Murphy would be just outside of her door. Something that did not sit well with Lexa in the least bit.

“I would like the opportunity to prove your worth here, having my guards would do just that. Nobody would dare try anything with them present.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow and laughed once, “I don’t need your appraisal Lexa and I’m not scared of some bounty hanging over my head. My men will guard my space.”

Lexa sighed, “Of course, I have to be going, but do you think we could meet tonight?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Lexa,” Clarke turned away from her, “I think it would be best if we kept my time in Polis platonic.”

“I see, well I am sorry for that.” Though she had a dozen or so more questions and she desperately wanted to console and soothe the girl in front of her, her back remained turned and Lexa knew it wasn’t the right time.

Wells appeared minutes after Lexas’ departure and found Clarke on the pile of furs with her knees to her chest and her eyes closed tightly. He had taken one look at her in the forest and knew something was wrong. The way that she curled into herself in broad daylight just confirmed it. He popped back out to tell Murphy to stand tight and then dumped his gun on the table in front of the bed before he made himself a physical presence next to Clarke. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him and she went with no argument. The second her chin found his shoulder and her legs tossed over her lap she let the first tear slip. It was impossible to stop the rest from there and Wells just held her while she cried.

Despite the calm and cool presentation Clarke Griffin put forward on a normal basis it wasn’t entirely abnormal for her to have moments like these. It was hard for both her and Wells back on the Ark. To their peers and classmates they lived in luxury and to the kids who grew up similarly they were competition. The Ark was not a setting of peace, despite the constant preaching from Marcus Kane. Nobody could truly believe that two kids such as Clarke and Wells understood strife. It didn’t matter that Clarkes’ only friend was Wells, it didn’t matter that her parents didn’t have time for her or that she was all alone for most holidays and birthdays. It only mattered that her mother was a councilwoman and lead surgeon while father was the head of the engineering department. Equally hardpressed was Wells whose father was the Chancellor! He was bullied ruthlessly as a teenager and he was a pawn in every single game played by the people in his life.

It was true that Clarke and Wells grew up together, but they became each other's friends for survival. Wells was too good for Clarke -always would be. He was sweet and intelligent and loyal to a fault. He knew all of Clarke’s non-verbal cues to her moods; when she was scared her fingers would twitch, when she was sad she bit the corner of her bottom lip, when she was angry her hands flew through the air at every word as if she couldn’t speak without them. He knew her ability to hold a grudge was impressive, if not a little daunting and he knew that when she was happy her cheeks flushed and she jumbled her words together. And he always, _always_ knew when she needed him to be there for her the most.

Despite the self deprecating pedestal that Clarke hoisted herself on to Wells saw only the good within her. She loved him in a way that she never allowed herself to love. He was her best friend and brother in every sense of the words! She stood by him and refused to step aside when he was picked on and sometimes it ended with her own bruise or busted lip, but she wore those discolored pieces of skin proudly. Clarke had a darkness about her too, she fell into a depression when they were teenagers and there wasn’t much that could get her out of bed. She went to class and she kept her grades up. Despite her parents adoration and love for her their attention was split between their pressing responsibilities and careers and Clarke was an afterthought in many ways. So she’d skip a couple meals, or sleep through a day of classes under the guise that she wasn’t feeling well, or on the worst of the days she’d blow up at Wells and yell at him and shove him away until he eventually overpowered her exhausted body and forced her to breathe.

There had been a balance between the two of them. They always managed to find each other and bring comfort when needed. They wanted the best for their people, but more than that they wanted to _live_. Their lives in the Ark were about survival; yes they knew that their lives had been easier in comparison to many others, but it wasn’t living. Their short time on the ground had been the same fight but a different battle. Wells didn’t know what had happened in the mountain, he had been away from camp immediately following Finns’ execution. He didn’t know the weight behind Clarkes’ decisions and desperation or the sacrifice Miller made as he went through gruesome rounds of physical torment and transfusion after transfusion. He didn’t know about Jasper or Fox or Harper… he didn’t know any of it. And the more that Clarke cried in his lap, the more she sobbed her apologies and the deeper the story got the more terrified he became.

“Clarke…” he tried after her erratic breathing cut off her voice, “Clarke!”

“I tried Wells…” she panted, her face pressed against his shoulder and her knuckles white from her grip on his shirt, “I tried, I tried, I tried!”

“Clarke, come on now, listen to me!”

She gulped in a rough breath and pulled back enough for him to see her face, “I didn’t want to do it, but I had to and now they just _haunt_ me. I didn’t ask for this Wells! I didn’t want this! I-”

“Stop, Clarke, just stop!” Wells pleaded, “You don’t have to defend yourself to me, ok? I get it! What you _did_ will not define who you _are_ , but you move on from here will. Starting right now I need you to take a couple deep breaths and I need you to just focus on that ok?”

She nodded and worked on her breathing. “Good, now after you get your breath under control I want you to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” Wells pressed on as he started to readjust them, “the worst thing that happens is you have a nightmare. It’ll be scary and it’ll feel real, but it won’t be and Clarke if you really need some extra reassurance that it’ll be okay, Murphy and I are right on the other side of that door.”

Clarke felt herself get tucked in under one of the fur blankets; “They’ll wonder where I’m at for dinner.”

Wells smiled, “Then they can bring some food to you.” He finished adjusting her blankets and pulled the curtain over the window to block the high afternoon sun. He walked out of her room moments after he pressed a comforting kiss to her forehead.

* * *

Clarke fell asleep before Wells could reassure Murphy that everything was alright (even if it wasn’t). She woke up in the middle of the night, not from a nightmare, but on her own. It felt invigorating and she let out a deep moan as she stretched. The thought of returning to sleep caused Clarke to scrunch up her nose in distaste, because sleeping during the day and at night were totally different things. Instead she looked around the room for something to wear. To her luck there was a cloak in the far corner. It was old and musty and smelled weird, but it had a hood and offered enough camouflage for her to blend in that she could get away with some scouting. She pushed her door open softly and popped her head out first before she cleared the doorway.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing Princess, I wouldn’t.” Murphy grumbled from his spot to her left. He looked at her pointedly with raised eyebrows and she couldn’t help the small playful smile followed. “I mean it, go back to bed.”

“I can’t sleep now Murphy, I’m wide awake.” Which wasn’t an entire lie, she thought to herself, “I just want to do some looking around, find any weak points, you know that kind of stuff.”

He rolled his eyes, “You wouldn’t be wide awake if you had just slept like a normal human. You exhausting yourself to the point of a breakdown and then sleeping for almost twelve hours is your own fault.”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose Murphy,” she grumbled, “but that’s besides the point! I just need a quick walk and then I promise I’ll go back to bed.”

“Miller would kill me if something happened to you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“Wells would cry all over me if you got stabbed,” he continued to muse aloud as if he hadn’t heard her insistent response, “and we both know how much I hate anyone crying on me or near me.”

“I’m going now.”

“Be back before Prince Charming wakes up for his round of guard duty.” He looked at his bare wrist for emphasis, “You’ve got an hour.”

She nodded and then slipped down the hallway. If she used the pulley system she was positive that Lexa would be alerted so instead she found the stairway. The climb back up would be brutal, but if she could gather just a little more information on their location and positioning -maybe if she got lucky she could overhear some late night conversations. She just needed to move and do something (maybe turning Lexa down on her offer to meet up was a bad idea). When she reached the ground level she pulled the cloak tighter and made sure the hood remained up. She spent some time on the main property and avoided the guards that were on patrol to the best of her ability.

Of course then she had to go and run right into one. “ _Ai laik sorry.”_

The guard shook his head and snapped back, “ _Watch em._ ” and then turned and stormed off. For a brief second Clarke thought he looked handsome with his unruly dark curls, but the second he opened his mouth all handsome vibes flew out the window. The man was a jerk.

He didn’t bother to turn and look back around at her, which was probably a good thing as she held up a one finger salute to his retreating form. If he had seen it she had no doubt he would have wanted to confront her and then she’d have found herself caught in an argument with a guy she didn’t even know. Clarke never liked smug men. Instead she waited for him to turn the corner and then proceeded to go in the opposite direction. She did eventually come up to a garden on the grounds of the tower. She couldn’t make out if it had been built intentionally or if the Earth reclaimed that exact spot after the bombs. It could have been symbolic or a holy place, but Clarke just thought it was beautiful. She wandered around full circle, to ensure that nobody else was there with her, before she took off the hood on the cloak.

It happened as she had her arms up. A muscular arm wrapped itself around her neck and trapped her so that they remained bent at her head. She immediately went to try and kick out at her oppressor but he was better prepared and all it did was invite him to pull her closer against his body. Clarke felt sick. She began to try and twist and in true desperation latched her teeth onto his arm, which seemed to do the trick, because suddenly she had been freed.

“Fuck!”

She spit and then reached for the gun she kept in the waistband of her worn out and tattered pants. She didn’t hesitate as she pointed the gun at him, “Who are you?”

The man had a jagged scar that ran along his face and long untamed brown hair, he was still upset over the bite to his arm as he said, “What kind of savage bites someone?”

She blinked in surprise and wavered for just a second, “What kind of savage approaches a woman from behind and then traps her like that?”

“Obviously a man that was trying to keep your god damned hood up! Are you not aware of the danger you’re in?”

“I don’t even know who you are to make that judgement. It seemed perfectly safe until you came along.” She clicked the safety off of the handgun. “Now I’ll ask one more time, who are you?”


	4. and i can see you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual content ahead.   
> Double Warning: It is a Clexa scene so if anyone is going to snap about it, just please skip it...   
> Triple Warning: One of the reasons I wanted to start this piece was to give the characters a chance to go through self discovery... we all know Clarke would do anything for her people at her expense, but I just want to give them all a chance to live. I don't know my dudes and dudettes, I just have big plans for this piece.

The mystery man rolled his eyes and placed his hands up in a mock show of surrender, “Is the great _Wanheda_ going to shoot me?”

“I might.”

“You won’t,” the mystery man, Roan, said, “because that gun would draw attention to this spot and you don’t want that.”

Clarke refused to lower the gun, but she did agree, “You’re right, I don’t want that, but how did you know who I was? What were you doing here?”

“Your hair is the most noticeable thing about you; therefore, anyone looking for you could use that.”

“So you were just wandering around, saw my hair and decided to put me in a chokehold for my protection?”

Roan laughed one of those strong belly laughs. “You’re feisty, I like it. If you must know I saw you wandering and thought it peculiar that a servant was out this late and had hoped to be able to woo her into my bed tonight.”

Clarke lowered the gun with caution and scrunched her face up, “That’s disgusting.”

“A man’s gotta fuck to live darling.” He found a bench and plopped himself down and motioned for her to join him. He was incredibly amused when she kept her space and remained standing. “For someone who is held to such high esteem you’re not very smart are you girlie?”

“My name is Clarke.”

“Which I already knew,” he groaned as he stretched out in his seat and his eyes twinkled with mischief, “everyone knows who you are _Klark kom Skaikru_.”

“I’m flattered.” she bit out sarcastically, “are you one of the assassins that’s going to kill me?”

“Not unless someone can out pay the commander, which is doubtful, I’m unfortunately under strict orders _not_ to turn you into my mother. I am Prince Roan of _Azgeda_ at your service.” He even added in a mocking bow at the waist for her amusement, only she was far from amused. 

Clarke blinked in surprise; “You’re Ice Nations’ prince?”

“More or less,” he shrugged, “either way my loyalty is to the coalition.”

“So Lexa hired you to what? Babysit me?”

“Well if you’re going to wander off on your own in the middle of the night then yes. If you can manage to stay put for a while then no. My job is to make sure that nobody tries to sabotage the initiation. Believe it or not there are a few clans that are dissatisfied with Lexa’s insistence on your protection.”

“Considering your people were willing to annihilate a bunch of unarmed kids I am not shocked.”

“That’s where you mistake me. It’s not your people that the ambassadors are weary of, it’s you.”

“Because of Mount Weather…”

Roan shook his head; his eyes were cold, “Because you’re unpredictable and desperate. You judge my people for our response to your falling from the sky but you burned three hundred warriors to death, watched TonDC burn and then eliminated the entire mountain. All in the name of _your_ people.”

“I don’t need any reminders of my actions from you.”

“Perhaps not, but maybe you need a reminder on consequences.” He stood and proceeded towards her. “You see, everything you did for survival created this power, you created _Wanheda_. The only way you’ll be able to stop it is if you make different choices, create a different ripple in the pond.”

She stood chest to chest with the stranger, the man known as Roan and glared up into his eyes, “What are you saying?”

He lifted a finger to twist a strand of golden hair; “I’m saying that if you want to prove you value life then you’ll need to be prepared to make much, much harder choices. You can’t get out of everything by blowing people up _Klark kom Skaikru_.”

She pushed him back and away from her, “Don’t touch me! I’m going back to my quarters; do you have to follow me back to make sure I don’t make trouble?”

“Even if I tried to stop you I doubt I could.” He pondered and then looked around the grounds once more, “You didn’t create trouble on your way down here did you?”

“No.” Then she thought about the boy with the curly hair and cringed, “Well I bumped into someone, but they clearly had no idea who I was.”

“When was that?” Roan asked, teasing gone from his voice as he began to think through any possibility that followed. “What did they look like?”

She rolled her eyes, “I doubt he stuck around. He was dressed plain but had curly brown hair and he was taller than me. He didn’t even get a good look at me though.”

“Well that’s his loss; you must have bumped into Bellamy. He’s one of Ice Nations’ representatives.” It always amused him how easy it was to create a lie in times of need –and fun.

“Regardless of who he is, I need to get back before my guards switch.”

Roan laughed sarcastically, “So you do have guards!”

Clarke ignored him as she donned her hood and began to make her way out of the garden. To her disdain Roan had continued to follow. Once they approached the concrete connected to the tower he fell silent and Clarke knew that if she turned around she wouldn’t be able to see him anymore. She assessed the conversation once more in her head; Roan clearly hid bits of information from her. Though her gut instincts didn’t scream at her and she could tell he told most of the truth. She wondered how they could have missed him on their way in. It wasn’t like he blended in, not with his unruly long hair and scarred face. Then again, he wore nothing that signified a clan party and even though he dressed lightly Clarke had no doubt he managed to remain armed. She snuck her way back up and into her respective room with nothing more than a raised eyebrow from Murphy. She had just settled back into the mound of furs when she heard Wells ask how everything was. She hadn’t been tired, not initially, but soon she drifted back to sleep.

Her nightmares started just at dawn. She startled awake and took a moment to collect her frantic breath. Moments later her door was being pushed open by Murphy. She started the day with the smell of burnt flesh stuck to her nostrils.

* * *

The people of Arkadia were treated to fruits and grains for breakfast. There were protein options available in meat and nuts, but Clarke (and a few others) indulged in the sweeter and more filling options. The start of the meal had been tense; both parties remembered the last meal shared. The way that Augustus had poisoned the cups and laid the trap to frame Raven was still fresh in the minds of Miller and Clarke. It must have been fresh in the minds of Lexa’s advisors as well, for they taste tested almost everything before allowing Lexa -or anyone else, begin the meal. Marcus had gone on to explain that he was invited to participate in the preparation of the meal, a show of goodwill and trust that nobody tampered with anything.

Lexa had made her place next to Clarke almost instinctively. She had hoped it served a two-fold purpose; for one she wanted to make sure that everyone gathered understood her standing with Clarke hadn’t changed and two she wanted to discuss the night before. Roan had reported to her at the crack of dawn that he had found Clarke in the gardens late last night with no escort and only a gun as protection. It was simply unacceptable! Luckily Roan had been there, although Lexa didn’t trust him anymore than she trusted anyone from the Ice Nation, but he insisted that nothing happened. He had done his job. The young commander hoped that it would be the only time his presence was truly needed.

“ _Sonop you_.” Lexa greeted easily as she accepted a plate full of colors and smells from the servant, she then turned to Clarke and said much softer, “It means good morning.”

“Well then, sonop you.” Clarke said back, she kept it light and peaceful with a hint of a smile on her face, but that was all.

“Did you sleep well?”

Clarke nodded as she picked up a piece of her fruit, “Better than expected, thank you.” she said and immediately popped the fruit into her mouth. It hadn’t been a lie, she had slept well -much better than in the camp of Arkadia, but she hadn’t been up for much conversation. “Everything tastes wonderful this morning.”

Lexa smiled and agreed, “Each clan has its own vegetation and on the occasions where we all come together it’s customary for them to bring pieces of their crop. They bring other things to trade as well; items of value or traditional pieces they’d like to share.”

Clarke wondered what they’d be expected to bring to these gatherings. It wasn’t like they had a particular crop or vegetation; they simply ate what they found. She began to question the balance of having her people within the coalition. It was clear that it wasn’t just an alliance of convenience, it sounded as if they had routinely meetings or gatherings and representatives and ambassadors were expected to attend. There was nothing that the sky people could give the grounders! Nothing that they’d value, unless…

Clarke snapped her head up and looked over at Lexa quickly; “My attendance wasn’t required because you value my input as a member of my people.”

In her defense, Lexa looked truly perplexed at the outburst, “What? Of course it is, you’re essentially their leader Clarke and any clan that’s joined the coalition needed their leader present.”

“Except that our _chosen_ leader is my mother.” Clarke turned to fully face Lexa. “You knew that from the beginning.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t your mother that was in charge of our negotiation against the mountain. It was you that made all the decisions and moves; therefore it was you my council wanted present to seal our alliance.”

“Don’t bullshit me Lexa.”

“I’m not!” Lexas’ voice held a tinge of desperation even though it remained whisper level. “I don’t understand where any of this is coming from.”

“You know that my people can’t offer anything to your traditions. We have no crops and we have nothing that your people value, but we do have what your people fear.”

“Do you really think that I’d form an alliance out of fear?”

“Your chance to stand beside us a testimony of your word and peace disappeared the second someone gave you an out, so yes, I think it is fear.”

Lexa rolled her eyes; “And what is it that we would fear so much?”

“Me.”

Lexas’ mouth dropped open before she could control it and Clarke had her answer. The blonde shook her head and pushed away from her seat and excused herself from the meal. She felt a couple pairs of eyes on her -no doubt they watched the entire interaction between her and Lexa, and she nodded to them subtly. A reminder that she too could be aware of everyone in the room. She had just made it to the stairwell when Lexa caught up with her. She felt the pull to her arm as she was spun around and pressed against the wall; “I do not fear you _Wanheda_.”

“You just fear what I’m capable of doing.” Clarke kept a steady gaze into Lexa’s eyes. Her right arm was pressed above her head and her left had been free to wander. She trailed her fingers up her captors arm until it rested at her shoulder. “You were going to use me, for this alliance, weren’t you?”

Lexa let her gaze drift towards Clarkes’ lips, only for a second, before she met the clear blue eyes she had dreamt of the night before, “I could never hurt you Clarke.” she whispered as she inched closer. Instinctively she felt Clarke push up against her body, a natural response to the tension between them. “I never intended to hurt you.” She whispered once more before her lips claimed Clarkes’ in a moment of heat and passion. Soon she had freed Clarkes’ right arm and instead gripped her face gently between both her palms. Clarkes’ hands fisted into the shoulders of Lexas’ top and their kiss proceeded to get heavier and hotter as the seconds moved by. Their hands wandered each other loosely and their lips trailed each other's necks, Lexa gripped Clarkes’ hair and pulled back firmly. The subtle mark that Clarke had left just below her partner's left ear was still damp from her mouth and she couldn’t help but mew at the tug to her hair and at the heat in Lexas’ eyes.

“Come with me.”

And Clarke went.

The pair moved quickly to Lexas’ chambers and then they slowed down. It was passionate and it was raw. Both women had prior experience, Clarke had Finn before and Lexa had Costia, but this was nothing like that. The way that Lexas’ eyes trailed over Clarkes’ body as she stripped the blonder sky warrior of her clothing -of her walls, ignited a heat that spread throughout Clarkes’ body. In return the excitement and anticipation that clouded over her normally electric blue overcame Lexa and she removed her own clothing erratically with no pattern, no sense of stopping. Their touches opposite of each other; Clarkes’ tentative, but firm while Lexa’s were controlling and purposeful. Their sounds of pleasure meshed perfectly and filled the empty space of the room while their bodies responded naturally to each other's motions. Lexa had pulled back from her worshipping of Clarkes’ breasts only long enough to trail her hot mouth along the pale body below her before she took her tongue to Clarke’s center. With no warning it left the girl below to jump up and gasp.

Clarkes’ hand gripped Lexas’ ponytail, messing it up and loosening it, but she needed something to ground herself, something to cling to. She felt her hips buck and she moaned heavily as she felt a single and then double digits enter her. Lexas’ eyes strained to see Clarke with her head thrown back and her hair wild, her ears fixated on the wretched sounds that escaped her lips. She could feel the physical build of Clarkes’ orgasm, the way her walls clenched the way her nails scraped against her scalp. Her torment of oral play ended with a rough nip at Clarkes’ clit and a bruising bite to the inside of her thigh, but as she crawled her back up -like a panther stalks its prey, she guided Clarkes’ free hand (clenched around a fur) to her own body. “Touch me Clarke.”

And Clarke did.

She played freely with Lexa’s body, taunted and teased each nippled, dug her nails into her ass and then finally let her fingers drift over Lexas’ own opening. Lexa let out a moan and increased her own ferocity with her fingers and Clarke took the encouragement to explore further. It felt like the world had paused with Lexa as she ground against Clarkes’ hand and Clarke moved in response. They both were inhibited in their moans and sighs and sometimes shouts. Lexa had lowered herself so that her body covered Clarkes’ entirely, like a shield, and she panted against Clarkes’ ear; “I’m gonna’ cum, I’m gonna’ cum… fuck Clarke!”

Clarke felt the way Lexa’s whole body trembled with her orgasm and the rush of heat filled her fingers delightfully. She pulled her hand away from Lexa and teased her own lips with the taste of the woman above her. It only lasted a second before she felt Lexa’s fingers hook up within her and soon she too felt her own orgasm rush through her. She gasped and hissed, “Fuck!” and then went limp as her breath continued to escape her.

She remained breathless even through Lexas’ form of aftercare. For her it had been quiet words of reassurance and praise and gentle hands working at tight muscles. Soft playful kisses that trailed along Clarkes’ shoulder, up her neck, under her jaw, against the span of her face. She felt herself relax as the deadly commanders’ fingers worked through her tangled curls and her eyes fell for moments at a time. Clarke hadn’t been aware of how long they laid wrapped up in each other for, but all too soon the moment had lifted and both women had sat up. They were sweaty, but satisfied as they stared at each other in post sexual bliss. Clarke didn’t want to ruin the moment, but someone had to make the first move.

She began to gather her clothes, much to Lexas’ dismay. She dressed herself, taunted Lexa with each new article of clothing. She smirked as she pulled the dull pair of panties over her ass and bent over with exaggeration as she reached for the flimsy bra. She continued to move deliberately and even though her back faced Lexa she knew she had her full attention. The little sounds that came from the warrior behind her were a sure indication as well. Once she was completely clothed she turned her head back towards her partner; “You should get dressed Heda.”

Lexa grinned wickedly, “You should get undressed.”

Clarke shook her head softly and walked towards the door, her hand rested on the handle, but before she made her exit she spoke, “If it comes down to it, you can’t choose me over my people, understand?”

And Clarke walked out.

She walked past the _Fleimkepa_ , Titus, without a second thought. She didn’t notice his contempt when she passed him and she hadn’t felt his eyes on her from behind. To her credit, Lexa hadn’t noticed his presence in the hallway either. However, Titus knew what he saw and the implication of Clarke sauntering out of his commander's room left a sour taste in his mouth. He would not and could not stand to have the holder of the flame tainted by someone like Clarke. True she was a fierce and devoted warrior for her people, but her position and legend could lead to turmoil within the coalition and he could not in good conscience let Lexas’ (and the flames) hard work fall apart. He reminded himself that it was better to face his commander head on rather than go to the other members of the council. With that he knocked on her door.

* * *

Peace negotiations with the ambassadors of the twelve clans started just after the noon meal. Marcus had confidently introduced himself to the other ambassadors and stood tall and proud as he produced the terms and conditions of his people. He answered all the proper questions and asked his own when necessary. He had felt confident that his diplomatic duty to the sky people would be fulfilled with no bloodshed. Since his position on their council was tentative to their vote he was required to stand for the duration of their regular meeting. At least, it felt like a meeting to him. Even down to the way they handled decisions felt oddly diplomatic in comparison to the eye for an eye militant style of leading he witnessed months prior.

“Commander,” the ambassador of the Shallow Valley rose from her seat to speak to those around her, “forgive me for my indifference in these regards, but there are a few of us here that wonder why _you_ want the sky people to join our ranks.”

“Obviously it’s for her own personal gain.”

Lexas’ eyes snapped towards the ambassador of the Delphi People, “And what personal gain is that?”

Shallow Valley’s ambassador spoke up in response to the commander's question, “Some of us are concerned that this alliance is one-sided. It didn’t seem like much of an issue until the stories about the Commander of Death were brought up.”

“Exactly!” Ice Nations’ ambassador, Link, exclaimed, “Some of us are concerned that you’d like to bring the Sky People in as the thirteenth clan so that you can be the one to control the powers of _Wanheda_.”

“That sounds like a personal challenge to your commander.”

“Not a challenge, just an observation.”

“It’s not just your personal relationship with the girl that concerns us,” the elder warrior of the Plains Riders stood to make his point as well, “the location of the Sky People would lead some to believe that you’re looking to favor _Trikru_ which puts both _Yujeda_ and _Azgeda_ in vulnerable positions. Both clans you have known conflict with.”

The room erupted into chatter, which Marcus had taken as the opportunity to try and redirect the talks. “I assure you, the only reason we’ve relocated to Mount Weather is to leave your valley borders undisturbed.”

“But it is not undisturbed. Your home from the sky is there, your debris litters our fields and your people are split between the two settlements.”

“This wasn’t intentional! We simply landed there. As for our split settlements, yes at this time that is the case, but we are working with our people to get them on the mountain as well.”

“Why not let the surrounding clans absorb these castaways?”

Marcus huffed, “They’re not castaways! They’re mostly kids that landed before the rest of us and their experience within Mount Weather was…”

“Haunting?” Broad Leaf Clans’ ambassador supplied for Marcus. “We’ve all seen the horrors of the world around us _Marcus kom Skaikru_ and word of what happened in the mountain has traveled fast.”

“Then you understand?”

The woman of Yujeda nodded once and then looked around the room before her eyes settled on Marcus once more; “I understand why peace matters so much to you, but I fail to see why becoming part of the coalition is the only solution. There are other ways to broker peace for your people.”

“Not in a way that doesn’t endanger one of my clans.” Lexa demanded the attention of everyone in the room with her voice. Marcus watched as the standing council members took their seats again. He was impressed, although Lexa appeared young -much younger than most of her advisors, they respected her and adhered to her. “The sky people have proven themselves capable warriors and loyal. My decision to add them as the thirteenth clan was to ensure balance remains amongst our people.”

“Will they remain in Mount Weather or could we perhaps help them establish a settlement towards the unmarked coastal lines?”

“There will be no need for that, their establishment within Mount Weather would be acceptable. The markings of the mountain men are still standing; the allotted land is already clearly marked and is more than enough for them.”

“What about their expansion?”

Lexa looked at Marcus with ice in her gaze; “Do you plan to expand?”

Marcus had been quick to shake his head in denial, “Just naturally, in the sense of marriage and children.”

“Then it appears we have nothing to worry about.” Lexa reclaimed her seat and opened the floor for the motion of acceptance. The ambassador of the Boat People seconded the motion, but the vote remained even. Just before she could bring forward an adjustment to the motion the ambassador of the Ice Nation stood up.

“I will not vote for the acceptance of a thirteenth clan until you can prove there are no Rights of Favor involved.”

Lexa blinked furiously and had started to make a demand until two more ambassadors stood up in agreement. She turned towards Titus and motioned him forward, “Titus can attest to my relations with the Sky People. He has been involved in all talks of treaty and meetings with their ambassador, before and after the mountain.”

Titus, an elderly looking man with a large forehead and no hair stepped forward. Though his appearance was less resolute and more anxious he was still intimidating. He cleared his throat and motioned for everyone to be seated again and stepped forward towards the middle of the room; “It is true, our commander has worked alongside the sky people for peace and nothing more.”

“What about Wanheda?”

“She has nothing to do with this.” Lexa bit out, but Titus had looked at her solemnly. “Titus…”

“I’m sorry Commander, but it is my job to see that the flame is kept in truth and light.” He turned back to face the council members, “I did see the personal relations between our commander and the girl they call the commander of death. I’d invite you all to heavily consider the motion presented earlier with the extended motion that the Sky People abolish their ties with Wanheda herself.”

“I’ll second the motion.” Ice Nations’ ambassador chimed with his right hand in the air.

“And what happens to Clarke?” Marcus demanded with fury in his eyes, “What happens to the girl that literally solved your Mountain Men problem?”

“Nothing,” Lexa insisted, “because this motion isn’t going to be voted upon.”

“Why not?” another ambassador questioned, “If I were in your position Commander, I’d want to alienate Wanheda and then kill her myself so that the powers of death could be mine. Yet you sit there and deny yourself that chance? You insist that their position within our ranks would lift the bounty off of this girl's head, yet all it does is solidifying the power she holds over you.”

“You speak out of term to our commander.” Broad Leaf Clan’s ambassador replied with her arms crossed as she stared at Marcus. “It would make things easier if your people didn’t hold an emotional attachment to her.”

“Well, she’s not just some girl. She’s the reason our people have survived.”

“And she’s your _heda_ ’s daughter.” Everyone snapped their attention towards the ambassador of _Trikru_. “Her value to your people is not just in her works for peace and survival. Since it’s clear that our commander also values _Klark com Skaikru_ we should want to strengthen her value to our coalition, not destroy her.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“Someone’s already called the Rights of Favor,” she responded with a shrug, “to prove that the Commander is bringing forth this initiation in good spirit she’ll be willing to give Clarke up. The clan, who wins the challenge, wins Clarke and solidifies an alliance within the coalition.”

“Clarke isn’t a piece of property to be auctioned off.”

“Of course not Marcus, but if our commander pushes forward and initiates your clan it’ll just prove that she’s making a decision for her own personal gain and not from the guidance of the flame.”

“Every decision I make is for the good of my people.”

“Then prove it.” The woods clan warrior gestured widely with her arms, “Prove to us in this room that _Klark kom Skaikru_ holds no power over you and maybe the legend of Wanheda will be put to rest.”

Lexas’ nostrils flared and her eyes jumped around the room. Marcus stood with a look of agitation and distress on his face. He could very well decide for his people that peace is not attainable in this way. He could decide to take his people home. He could decide to take _Clarke_ home. In the same thought process if Lexa let them leave then her push for peace would have been for nought. Not that she wasn’t already prepared! It had been something discussed thoroughly in the weeks up to the meeting. She took a breath and then met Marcus Kanes’ eyes who had remained in the center of the room with his fists clenched and jaw squared. “To initiate the challenge each clan must present me with one representative willing to fight for the hand of _Klark kom Skaikru_.”

“Lexa!” Marcus gasped out, his jaw now slack and eyes cold in fury.

“It is what must be done Kane.” She addressed the remaining people in the room with a tone of finality. “You all have three hours to choose.”

* * *

Clarke waited in anxiety in her quarters with the rest of her people. She had chewed along the side of her thumb for the last thirty minutes or so. The skin was raw and stretched, but it kept her mind on the task at hand. It kept her breathing under control and it only slightly infuriated Murphy. He had only grabbed at her hand twice in the last hour. He grunted at her to stop three times after that. Clarke muttered back, “I don’t take orders from you Murphy.” and then they repeat the routine.

“It’s taking too long.” Zoe whispered out, “Isn’t it? Isn’t it taking too long?”

Wells shrugged, “Maybe not.”

“The first time we had peace talks with Lexa it had taken us the bulk of the day.”

“Was that before or after you executed Spacewalker?”

Clarke eyed Murphy with a look of cold indifference; “After.”

Miller smacked Murphy upside the head immediately afterward, but then it’s silent again. It felt like hours had passed, maybe they had, maybe it had been just minutes, but the time passed slowly. Marcus Kane announced his presence and walked briskly into the room and Clarke took one look at him and knew something was wrong. Before she had the chance to demand answers it was Miller who had demanded Kane explain.

“There’s a bit of a problem.”

“Define a bit of a problem.” Murphy snorted.

“There are some clans that believe Lexa and Clarkes’ personal…” he paused to look over at Clarke who had averted her gaze to the ground, “... personal relationship is the driving force behind our peace treaty. It’s created some tension.”

“So how do we resolve that tension?”

“Well,” Marcus delayed with a subtle blush working its way up his neck, “the grounders seem to want to resolve that issue themselves. Each clan is to present their eligible persons for a challenge of some kind and then the winner gets, well, they get…” he continued to stumble over words until Miller told him to spit it out and Clarke had been in the midst of reprimanding her friend when they all heard it.

“...well the winner gets Clarke.”


	5. they would shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've previously dedicated two to three weeks to write out the first five chapters of this fic (thus allowing me a month to write and post other works) I am obligated to let you all know that I'm currently working on chapters six through ten over the next two weeks or so. If there's a delay in my posting, that is why, no worries, I am not done yet. In the mean time IF you are experiencing a break in posts for a week or so and would like to check my other works, please feel free and also check out my pieces on FFN (CharlieMichelle) for some other fandoms. Hope you've all had a marvelous week!

“Excuse me?”

Marcus sighed heavily, “You all heard me, they want Clarke.”

“Want Clarke how?” Miller demanded with fire in his eyes.

“I’m seeing a theme here.” Murphy muttered to himself as he began to pace.

Miller and Marcus got into a heavy argument within seconds and with Murphy in the background, “Peace talks come with executions. Population control and psychological control, _genius_.” he continued to add his voice to the noise as he paced the width of the room.

Zoe and Wells focused more on Clarke; “I’m sure there’s a way around this.” her female companion reassured her while Wells readily agreed and offered more physical support, but Clarke remained silent. Her eyes were trained on the opposite wall as she controlled her breathing. “Why is your neck twitching?”

“Zoe…” Wells scolded and then proceeded to turn to Clarke, “we can figure this out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out Wells.”

It was like the sound of her voice rang out through the city, but really it was soft and quiet. It still stopped everyone in the room as they turned to face her. Miller, of course it was Miller, had been the most upset. He had begun to insist as he made his way towards her, but in Clarkes’ mind there was nothing left to insist upon, she knew what she had to do. She met Kanes’ eyes and nodded once; “They get me and we all get peace, right?”

Marcus looked pained, but he insisted anyway, “There are other ways to get peace Clarke.”

“None that don’t end the same way.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Clarke stood with her arms crossed at her chest, like she was hugging herself, “What’s next Kane?”

Marcus for the most part does look a little awkward as he rubs at the back of his neck. “We have some time before Lexa is going to call the ambassadors back. Each one has to present one of their representatives to me and then I have to choose three.”

“So you get to pick who gets the glory of Wanheda?”

“Luckily for you Trikrus’ ambassador felt the need to remind everyone in the room what a value you are to our people alive.”

“So she brought up my mother.”

“Right, but for the most part it did work. The council was much more inclined to lift the bounty on your head with this outcome than they were before.”

“Ok, so what am I supposed to do?” Clarke demanded, frustration clearly evident in her tone and stance. “Marcus…”

“Well of the three representatives I chose one of them will win your hand in marriage.”

The room exploded in noise and chaos. Clarke sank back down to the seat she had previously vacated. She wasn’t in silence because of outrage -no, it was more like a confusion. Instead she sat in silence while she ran through numerous possibilities in her head. It didn’t make sense that they’d want her hand in marriage. She expressed just that concern when she had a moment in between the gasped and outraged shouts. Not surprisingly it was Wells that answered diplomatically.

“History repeats itself.” Ok, so it wasn’t as diplomatic as Clarke imagined it being, but it got everyone's’ attention and it made the circling noise cease for just a minute to allow his explanation. “Obviously their culture is mirroring some of the same traditions from ancient civilizations. If I had to guess I’d say more along the lines of the Inca or even Mayan institutes. Both believed in religious sacrifice and dedication to a warrior lifestyle and most had a dedication to their emperor. They lived in tribes and at the height of their time their civilizations could stretch across entire countries.”

Murphy huffed; “Great, thank you for that history lesson, can we apply it to our current situation or were you just offering up a fun fact?”

“Shut up asshole.” Wells bit out as he re-collected his thoughts, “Each ancient civilization had its own religious institute. Many of them were polytheists, meaning they worshipped more than one God-”

“Which is not the Grounders belief,” Marcus interrupted, “Lincoln explained to us the set up of their belief system and it revolves around one central deity.”

“Does it though? I mean, think about it! They don’t believe in one God Kane, they believe that one person is suited to carry their flame which encompasses the voices of all the previous commanders.” Miller interjected from his corner of the room. He had remained otherwise silent throughout the ordeal, but silence was oftentimes deceiving when it came to the young guard.

“Okay, good information. Let’s assume we’re dealing with a society built around kathenotheism.” Wells continued. “They worship one particular idol or God or whatever, but it doesn’t deter them from other deities. We obviously know that their leader is the commander, but what is she called?”

“They use the term heda.”

Miller is the first to piece it all together, “They call Clarke Wan _heda_ which means they’ve now associated her on the same scale as their commander which is conflicting.”

“So there can only be one commander…” Clarke mused, she too had joined the pacing at one point, “Kane, what exactly did they insinuate when they started talking about my role in all of this.”

“A few of them insinuated that Lexa should kill you and claim your…” he gestured at her vaguely, “your spirit. It sounded like the idea was that if she killed you whatever power you possess would be inherited by their flame.”

“Believe it or not, that sounds about right. So why marriage?”

Wells snapped, “Because deities don’t bleed and if their pattern of civilization is following the patterns of historical societies it’s safe to assume a marriage ceremony would include the exchanging of blood.”

“Gross.” came from Murphy in the back. Clarke on the other hand hummed in agreeance while she mumbled, “Blood must have blood.”

“So this is just one big challenge?”

“It could be? I’m not an expert on Grounder culture, I just fancied the history of the human race as a kid. This is all stipulation.”

“What else is there Kane? There has to be something missing.”

“Some of the ambassadors expressed concern when it came to trusting Clarke to live in peace. They refused to vote us into the coalition without the guarantee that Clarke has no hold on any decisions being made.”

“It’s bullshit, they’re afraid of her so they’re going to try and pair her up with someone we don’t know or trust that will control her!”

“I can see why you’re outraged Miller, but I feel as if our hands are tied.”

“No they are not, we could leave. We didn’t come here _searching_ for an alliance, it was _offered_ to us. Why can’t we express our disagreement to their bullshit terms and walk away?”

“And risk our people not surviving the winter? Or a constant state of war? Is that really the life you wish to have on the ground?”

“It’s better than constantly putting my friends to bat and watching them strike out!”

“And I understand your frustration-”

“How could you understand?”

“Nathan we’ve all had to make sacrifices-”

“And you sacrificed what exactly?”

Clarke stepped between Miller and Marcus with a flurry of movement and fury in her words; “Back off. Both of you need to separate and calm down. We are stressed and we are tired, but we can’t turn on each other. Am I making myself clear?”

“You’re right Clarke, we need to approach this situation with level heads.”

She turned to face Miller and he rolled his eyes and agreed; “Good, so now let’s figure this out.” She sat herself at the table in the middle of the room and motioned for the others to join her. She tried to create a feeling of normalcy and stability. “All things considered this isn’t the worst scenario to be in.”

Miller shook his head once and disagreed, “Not great though and I don’t like _anyone_ being forced into something like this. Marriage is a pretty permanent thing Griffin.”

“So is death Miller.”

“Either way,” Clarke interrupted again with a steely voice to keep Miller and company under control, “we need to get control of the situation.”

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“I am also intrigued by your answer.”

“Firstly, stop instigating shit Murphy.” He responded to her glare with his hands in the air. “Secondly, we have to delay the challenge. Somehow we have to get one of the clans on our side, preferably one that geographically rests closely to Mount Weather. Logistically we don’t have much to offer.”

“We have nothing to offer.”

“I don’t believe that!” She insisted fiercely to the dismayed response from Zoe. She looked around the room and let out a long steady breath. She knew what she had to do, she just didn’t like it. “I need to talk to Lexa and I need to find Roan.”

“Who is Roan?”

“Wells, Murphy and Miller with me!” Clarke ignored Kanes’ question and began to bark out orders. “Zoe I need you to make yourself scarce and to try and figure out any information possible on these representatives, Kane you need to ensure that of the three you choose one of them is Ice Nation.”

“Why would you want me to choose from the clan that actively wants you dead?”

“Just _trust_ me Kane.”

He managed to grip her arm firmly, but softly, before she had exited the room. “I do Clarke, I trust you, but you can’t leave me in the dark. There’s too much at stake for our people here.”

She nodded once, “I know, that’s why I need to find Lexa and Roan and then we can talk about what’s next.”

She didn’t really give him time to respond as she just stepped out of his grasp and headed back towards the door where the three young men waited for her. It took only a second for him to realize he had gone unanswered. In a slightly desperate attempt he shouted; “Who is Roan?” but he was met with silence from the halls. He sat down at the empty table and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration while letting out a deep aggravated sigh. “This is going wonderfully.”

Zoe snorted, “Yeah, you know I always imagined myself spying on a group of people to seek out my friends potential husband..” Marcus glared, “... or wife.” He glared again, but before he could come up with a retort she had already slipped out of the room.

* * *

Roan had not expected to be summoned to Lexas’ small meeting room in broad daylight. Then again, he hadn’t expected many things in his life. So when he walked in and saw a small group of sky people in the room as well he really should have expected _something_ -anything really, as he learned the Sky People were incredibly unpredictable. He masked his surprise with an unbothered, almost bored, greeting. “Commander, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lexa looked angry, not quite as angry as he had seen her in the past, but well on her way. Her greeting was every bit as cold as her eyes. “It’s time for you to earn your place back among your people.”

At that he raised his eyebrows in shock, “I thought you wanted me to protect the sky princess.”

“And that’s what you shall do.” Lexa gestured with her left hand to the sky people that he had presently ignored until that moment. “Rights of Favor have been called and Clarkes’ hand in marriage is now the driving force behind peace talks.”

He could feel the young girl's eyes on him, but he paid her no mind. “Of course, it was something you had anticipated, is it not?”

“Neither here nor there Roan.” Clarkes’ eyes flew from Roans’ back to Lexas’ as she stared out towards the open window. “I’m realigning the details of your assignment.”

“Of course Heda, I’m here to serve you.”

She turned and huffed at him, “No need to put on a show. Wells is it?” she stared beyond Roan and motioned for Wells to step forward, though she tested his name hesitantly first. “If you could fill Roan in on your worries. This way all none of the details are missed.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

Roan watched a young man, young in age and dark skinned, step forward. He stood tall and there was an air of confidence or arrogance to him. Roan wasn’t sure which, but he couldn’t fight the smirk once the boy started talking. His retelling of the story was concise, miniscule details that most wouldn’t think mattered were mentioned. It confirmed all of his original suspicions. The boy named Wells would be an important asset and ally to the Sky People when it came time for them to elect an ambassador.

In summary; the information provided isn't terribly concerning. Obviously Ice Nation warriors could handle a small amount of rebellious sky people. However, if that small amount became a larger amount it would be a little more difficult to persuade the council of justified retribution. Roan rubbed at his chin while he contemplated. On the one hand, it was an incredible opportunity to get a one up on the sky people. On the other, they had implied that his people could be in danger. He could reason with the sky people, that he knew his peoples warriors were ruthless and that his mother acted without thinking. “You still have yet to tell me what you need me for.”

Clarke looked him square in the eye and without so much of a flinch her voice carried through the room. “We need you to kill Link and assume the role as the Azgeda ambassador.”

“Excuse me?”

“It sounds crazy and it’s dangerous, but it’s the only way.”

“Commander?”

Lexa nodded solemnly; “With you on my council your position as the Ice Nation Prince will be completely reinstated. Your clan would still be represented within the coalition and any decision your mother wishes to make outside of your borders will have to be approved by you before brought forward to me. It’s an incredible honor.”

“It’s also an act of treason against my mother.” Roan grunted. “Say I do this, what do my people gain from it?”

Clarke stepped forward, “They get Wanheda. We can bring it to the council before this challenge is supposed to start. Explain the situation with our people and then you would bring forward a peace treaty directly with Skaikru through marriage. From there your choice in representative would be my husband.”

“The challenge has already begun Sky Princess,” Roan said, mostly to watch her back straighten at the newfound nickname, “to disrupt the tradition would be suspicious.”

“He’s correct,” Lexa intervened, “even with Links’ death and substitution each clan must still present their representatives and your ambassador must still choose three.”

“If you knew that, what was the purpose of listening to my idea?”

“Because it’s a good plan Clarke. I have to consult my advisor, Titus, and gain his cooperation. From there I can present the idea of a choice, but it will have to be from the three that Marcus Kane already selected.”

“Is there any way to ensure that Ice Nation’s person is chosen?”

“Not technically,” Roan supplied, “they’re supposed to stand before your ambassador naked to ensure there are no abnormalities or imperfections to your choice. The only way to know which clan they’re representing is in the presence of specific markings.”

“That is incredibly embarrassing.”

Roan shrugged over at one of the men against the wall, boys more like, but he didn’t disagree. “Ice Nation bears scars. We wear them with pride and in some extreme cases go through scarification processes. Typically these marks are facial, like my own. Most clans believe in ink marks, tattoos and the like. Each clan has its own particular marks. For _Trikru_ they utilize a traditional tribal design that resembles their relationship to the earth around them.”

“Interesting, now the water clans, do they have a similar process?”

“More or less.”

“Is there an explanation behind it? Or just something you’ve always done.”

Roan looked over at Wells then back to Clarke, “Your friend has a lot of questions.”

“He likes to learn, it’s his thing.”

“To each their own,” he turned back towards the dark skinned man (more like a boy, but the maturity rested in his eyes), “it’s just a tradition, I’m sure your people have their own traditions.”

“Well traditionally a marriage is a mutual agreement between two people.” Murphy sniped from his position against the far wall. “But, like you said, to each their own.”

“Murphy…”

“I’m just saying!” He threw himself off the wall at Clarkes’ groan and pleaded for him to shut up. “So far since we’ve landed on this good for nothing planet we’ve been hunted and when we weren’t hunted we were starving. If we weren’t starving we were in the midst of a war, which by the way-”

Clarke attempted to reign him in, “Murphy, that’s enough.”

“How can you stand there and tell me that’s enough? They want to marry you off in the same way they’d trade crops! We wouldn’t even be in this mess if they hadn’t _shot at us_ first! And you know I’m right. You’re willing to jump for this peace treaty and the best they can give you is peace through marriage. Do you not see how fucked up that is?”

“We see it man,” Miller clasped his friend on the shoulder tightly, “but we’re seeing the bigger picture here Murphy.”

“Listen to me and only me.” Clarke stood in front of him with her eyes locked on his. “I will do whatever I have to do to ensure my people are safe. I’m not thrilled with how things are turning out, I’m not thrilled at the idea of marrying a complete stranger either, but I’ll do it one-hundred times over if it means that _you_ and everyone else back at Arkadia get a chance to live a peaceful life.”

Murphy nodded once and sniffed, Miller had released him during Clarkes’ miniature speech. He knew that Clarke was right. She had a funny way of always being right. She was the right one to speak on their behalf. She was the person that arrived right on time. She was the right friend to rely on for a laugh or pep talk. Deep down he knew that she would be the right one for this too; he hated it, but he knew it. So he blinked away the wetness in his eyes (there was dust) and nodded once more. “Yeah, yeah you’re right.”

Then the big warrior, the prince of the Ice Nation had interjected and brought the sky kids back to reality. Harsh and cold as it was, Roans’ voice had taken a more subtle tone almost like he was speaking to a spooked animal. “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but our customs are based on what we know and perhaps if we get the chance to know yours we can adjust.”

“You’re making decisions without consenting your commander first Roan.”

“No, I’m speaking diplomatically. I think that _Klark com Skaikru_ should have some kind of say in her future.”

“And if she chooses to marry no one?”

Roan shrugged and looked over at Lexa, “Then we go forward with the challenge.”

Lexa pushed herself back from her hunched over form and let out a heavy sigh. “And I suppose you’d want this to be your first order of business upon the removal of Link?”

“You know me so well Lexa.”

Lexa stood up at his snicker and made her way to the door; “I can’t make any promises, I must consult the Flame and then my adviser Titus. You have twelve hours to complete your task Roan, we can meet after your success and figure out the next steps from there. For now, we must prepare to initiate the challenge.”

Clarke watched the woman as she walked towards the door and as she was about to clear it she felt her voice carry throughout the room, “Thank you! I know this makes things difficult, but thank you Lexa for working with us.”

Lexa paused and looked back blinking in surprise, “You don’t have to thank me Clarke. I’m just doing what’s right.” She left before Clarke could say anything. There was a fluttering feeling that radiated through Clarkes’ stomach at Lexas’ words. Weeks ago she had held such a strong resentment and hatred towards the young commander. She blamed Lexa for all the wrong in her life, for the torment she had gone through. While these acts of kindness and understanding didn’t clear up the act of betrayal that day at the mountain they did reassure her that both of them were on the same page.

For once, it felt nice to not feel alone.

* * *

Monty Green had been through a lot.

He had thought that getting arrested alongside Jasper for stealing herbs had been the worst of it. Like they say, ignorance is bliss, because things just progressed dramatically from there. The two boys were in the juvenile detention center for well over a year when they had been herded like cattle into the Dropship and shot down to Earth. The reminder that they had all been seen as expendable still stung, but nearly as much as it did when Jasper was speared to a tree. That was a mess! From that mess came sleepless nights and paranoia that stilled seeped into the young teens bones if he let it. Then there was the war with the Grounders which was a little less stressful than the unknown. In the grand scheme of things Monty knew he had it all wrong in his head, but their new reality had a funny way of morphing things.

It was after the war with the Grounders when things got bad, like really, really _bad_.

First was Mount Weather and for a while Monty thought that everything would be alright. They had been given fresh clothes and food. They were allowed to mingle with other people -people that didn’t want to kill them on sight for existing. The blood transfusions weren’t even that bad! He didn’t mind donating blood every couple of days to help the people in the mountain. None of that was what kept him up at night. After the facade of safety and comfort wore off -during the forced bone marrow extractions, was the start of the nightmares. Monty could still feel the press of the needle, the haze of pain that surrounded him in every movement. He remembered the emotion that came with every empty bed and loss. He could still hear the desperation in Clarkes’ voice, feel the computer keys under his fingers (tap, tap, tap) and Millers’ gasping breaths. He could hear the mechanical buzz of the needle and could still see Raven strapped to the table unconscious and pale.

He could still see Jaspers’ heartbreak.

He could still hear his sneer of contempt.

He could still feel his shrug of indifference as Monty attempted to offer him comfort.

He woke up most nights in a cold sweat with no breath thinking of all those things. Every horrible thing he’d ever done in space and on the ground weighed him down. The lie that Monty lived each day made it hard for him to eat. Clarke lied to Jasper for _him_ , to protect his friendship and in doing so cursed Monty. He would be eternally grateful that Jasper was still around, still his, but it wasn’t the same. The drunk Jasper Jordan that wandered camp and picked fights was not the Jasper Jordan that Monty had been arrested with. Perhaps, that was the hardest part about the ground. To see the change in those around him; happy to sad, hopeful to hopeless… like constant reminders that the Earth was hellish and space ( _motherfucking space_ ) was the best part of his life.

For a split second he had been given a chance at happiness, when they had told him his mother and a few other survivors were welcomed into Arkadia hours after Clarke had left for Polis, Monty had been ecstatic. His reunion with his mother the following day in Mount Weathers’ medical bay was wholesome. They hugged and whispered with each other, they cried over the loss of his father and they sat in blissful silence. His mother asked how they did it, how one-hundred children survived so long. He answered; he told her of the things they did together (the wall, the shelters, the medicines, the hunts). He told her of their fears (death, death, death) and he recounted the stories for her (bonfires, outsmarting the Grounders, sharing cake in the mess hall of Mount Weather with friends -before the blood and bone marrow). He told her about Clarke and Miller and Jasper.

“It’s incredible!” his mother gushed as she pulled him closer to her side, “Being able to utilize a space like this, you kids got lucky.”

“Uh,” he pondered while he pulled back, just enough to look at her clearly, note the color of her eyes and liens on her face, “no, no; this place isn’t home and we didn’t utilize it when we landed.”

“So how did we end up here?”

At that Monty paused, because he didn’t want to tell his mother the truth, and didn't want to admit his role in all of it. “There were people in this bunker before us. They weren’t really into the idea of sharing, but in the end we proved more resilient and resourceful.”

“Were they grounders?”

“No, they couldn’t live on the ground. Their bodies were so protected against the radiation that they all got sick.” Monty felt sick as he said it. He could clearly see Maya’s glassy eyes and the elderly couple by the piano and the little girl at the table with her parents.

“Better than to face death at the grounders hands.”

And she said with such contempt and malice that it made Monty pull back entirely from his mother's arms. “Not all grounders are blood thirsty.”

“Perhaps, but none of them can be trusted. I think about what they did to your father and the other survivors in those weeks before Charles took control and I’m thankful that he stepped up when he did. They’re monsters Monty.”

“And we’re not?”

“We’re survivors.” She gripped his hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white. It felt like desperation in its newest form. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

He excused himself moments after her chapped lips pressed against his forehead. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His heart pounded in his chest at an uncontrollable tempo and his palms gathered sweat in small puddles. He swore it was the end, because his legs couldn’t carry him and he felt himself slide to the cold stone ground of the bunker. His bearings were lost and he hadn’t even been aware of where he sat until he heard it. His name called over and over again, frantic and panicked. A vision of a blonde swam in front of him and for a moment he wondered how many times Clarke would be the one saving his life.

“Come one Monty, you can do it.”

Her voice wasn’t Clarkes’, it was softer and more more airy. Her hands weren't the same either; he could tell based on the way she pressed into his shoulders. Clarke had sturdy soft palms with calloused fingers, these hands had a slight tremor to them and calloused all around. The warmth that emitted from this angel like figure was eventually what broke through Monty's bone seeping cold panic. Suddenly he could breathe again and was being hugged and hushed while skinny fingers worked their way through his hair. It was a lot of positive affirmations, "you're alright" and "it's okay" being the most common. The stiffness of his joints eventually loosened and he was able to return the hug with a ferocity that took him by surprise. By the squeak of the girl in his arms it took her by surprise too! However, despite his inner voice telling him how awkward this must be for her he held on because it just felt _right_. Nothing has felt right in such a long time that he didn't want it to go away. Eventually the pair had to pull apart, mostly because her knees locked up from their crouched position and his butt had gone numb from resting against the cold concrete for so long. The girl, Harper McIntyre, stood first and offered her hand to him to help him up. 

"Thanks, uh, for that." He ducked his head and scratched at the nape of his neck, an awkward tick he's always had. 

She smiled softly; "You'd do the same for me and we'd do the same for any of our other friends." 

"Still," he persisted upon meeting her eyes, "you didn't have to sit with me through that mess." 

Harper chuckled, "I mean, most of us don't enjoy sharing our mental breakdowns with others, but I've never not appreciated some company in the aftermath." 

"I guess you're not wrong there. What were you doing here anyway?" 

"Dr. Jackson wanted to do another evaluation on me before releasing me back to full duty. Unfortunately that means coming back here instead of him coming to us at camp. How about yourself?" 

"My mom, she was one of the survivors that were brought in and Dr. Griffin thought it would be best if I came to her for the first time." 

Harper nodded once and then turned her head away, she stared at the floor for a few moments, "Was it everything you hoped it would be? Your reunion with her?" 

Monty sighed heavily and rubbed at his face; "Honestly? I don't know. Her presence felt like my mom, but it was like talking to a stranger. Makes me wonder if the ground has changed me that much or her..." 

She looked up at that and then instinctively reached for his hand. "It doesn't matter. She's your mother and if you're happy that she's here, then I'm happy for you and that's..." she stopped with pinched eyebrows and stuttered breath, "you're allowed to be happy, because of your mom or not." 

"I know but-" 

"No buts Monty Green!" she insisted with a fierce look in her brown eyes and her arms crossed over her chest, he saw that stance a lot in Mount Weather when she meant business. "The ground doesn't get to take our chances of happiness too, it doesn't. Say it." 

"Harper..." he groaned out but she just quirked an eyebrow in response and gestured for him to continue, "alright, the ground doesn't get to take our happiness." 

"Not good enough. Again." 

"The ground doesn't get to take our happiness." 

She shook her head once more; "Like you mean it Monty, like you _believe_ it." 

"The ground doesn't get to take our happiness!" He added an arm flail for emphasis and was rewarded with her smile and laugh -and alright, he felt better to. "Was that better?" 

"Much, your presentation could use a little work, but I'll accept it. We should eat before we head back to Arkadia." she said as she easily looped her arm in his. They walked arm in arm down the corridor towards the kitchen level and found their place in line. Harper had started to ramble on about how she had looked forward to getting cleared for full duty again, about how sitting on the sidelines just wasn't her thing and had stopped mid sentence when she felt turn her around and hug her. 

"Just thank you Harper." Monty mumbled into the junction of her shoulder and neck, on instinct her arms wound themselves around his middle and up towards his shoulder. When they had pulled back they realized where they stood and broke apart quickly. A flush of embarrassment on his neck and ears and her embarrassment masked by her quick ramblings. They were served their lunch minutes later and found a table with some familiar faces to sit at. Monty Green had a tough time in the last several months, last several years if he were to be honest, but it was also entirely possible that things could start to look up. He just had to take it one day at a time. 


	6. the sky that made itself your name

“I keep telling you to stop chewing at your thumb.” Eric Jackson said as he watched his colleague and friend Abby Griffin continued to pace the width of the infirmary room they had been in. “You’re going to draw blood.”

“It’s a nervous habit.” She relented, cleared her throat and then returned to the task at hand. They had decided to sort through all the paperwork of the citizens of Mount Weather. They figured it wouldn’t hurt to figure out information on them as a population -despite them no longer being alive. There was something puzzling about the people of Mount Weather and the grounder clans that Abby couldn’t quite place.

Like all of her projects she threw herself into it completely. She let the mundane task of tearing through medical documents consume her in the two days that Clarke and the others had departed. She felt like so much had happened in that time frame! Survivors from Agro Station stumbled through the gates of Arkadia hours after the envoy left for Polis. They looked haggard and scarred, they wore grounder clothing, but it wasn’t the same style as Lincoln (or any of the clans that Abby had interacted with). The survivors had been ushered to Mount Weather quickly; Abby didn’t want them hanging with anyone that continued to reside in Arkadia without knowing what they had been through and what they had done themselves.

She and Eric had led the evaluation processes. It was apparent that they had elected Charles Pike as their leader. He answered all their questions collectively. He interrupted the questions Abby or Eric asked to start his own interrogation. He made demands. He used his intimidation to scare two of the younger apprentices into giving him what he wanted -at the time had been a change of clothing so he could rid himself of the grounder filth he wore. He was a problem that needed to be dealt with immediately. Abby had to have the survivor’s separated and spread out amongst the old decontamination rooms to continue her job. He fought her on that too.

At the time she dictated it was necessary, something he couldn’t possibly understand, because he hadn’t had the space or ability to think peacefully and quietly. He called her a bitch. He said that she clearly had no understanding of what was happening on the ground. She holds herself up in a fancy bunker with fancy supplies and technology and refuses to see what the _heathens_ were capable of. She didn’t offer him the response he wanted and instead of letting her anger seep through her words she offered him fresh linen for the sterile bed and a menu from the kitchen. If it could be called that. Their adjustment to the mountain's supplies was still ongoing. She locked his door from the outside with her pass code and instructed the interns that only she and Dr. Jackson would have access.

Some of the other survivors were easier to deal with; Hannah Green for example complied to everything without argument. She let Abby poke and prod and in return Abby was able to answer some of her patient’s questions. For the most part all of these newfound survivors felt very strongly their hatred towards the grounders, but Hannahs’ seemed more emotional, more intimate than that. During her second round of check-ups Abby couldn’t help but ask, “What happened when Agro landed?”

Hannah let out a breath and sagged back against the bed and continued to stare out in front of her, “It was awful… the landing alone killed over a dozen of us. A little boy had seen his parents’ bodies just beyond the wreckage that we survived in and I tried to stop him, to console him, but he rushed out of my arms into the open field. And in a matter of seconds he stopped running and dropped dead with an arrow in his chest.”

Abby took a seat along the side of the bed and wrapped her warm fingers around Hannahs’ cold ones. “I’m so sorry Hannah that you had to see that.”

“We thought that would be the end of it.” The woman in the bed continued, trancelike with her words flowing devoid of emotion. “We offered surrender and tried to explain that we meant them no harm that we were just trying to find our people. It made no difference and these warriors enjoyed tormenting us. We had no food, we had no water and we had no peace and every evening at sundown a warrior would saunter in and grab someone at random only to execute them right in front of us. Their _queen_ didn’t care about the Sky People, didn’t trust the Sky People and sought to eliminate us one by one.”

“For how long?”

Hannah shrugged, “Weeks… felt like forever, but in the end they killed twenty five of us before Charles stepped up. He was our hero and if it hadn’t been for him we would have all died miserable deaths.”

“What did Charles do? I’m sure it had to be a well crafted plan and executed almost perfectly.”

“It was! It really, really was…” she faded off and looked away from the wall and back towards Abby, “on the twenty-fifth day the grounder came to collect his daily victim Charles had volunteered himself willingly to get closer with the warrior so that he could kill him. He was so sure that there were no other warriors watching, but we couldn’t be positive. When sundown came and the grounder arrived it was my husband that went willingly so that Charles could follow. We all knew that if Charles was shot down that there was truly no hope. He wasn’t able to save my husband, he still died with an axe to his skull, but the plan worked. We overthrew the ten or so warriors that came looking for the missing companion and just kept going.”

“I’m sorry for your loss…”

“It had to be done. In the end we survived and that’s all that matters.”

Abby had been stunned to silence upon hearing the widows’ words. Is that what she had sounded like when she had made the awful decision to execute Jake? Is that what she had told herself when she had agreed to send one-hundred children to the ground? Was that the validation the situation deserved when they had finally found out just what was happening on the ground? She felt her stomach twist in anxiety as her thoughts spiraled. She had only been pulled back to the moment when Hannah had squeezed her hand once more and asked if she was alright; of course Abby lied. Waved off the womans’ concern and made a quick move to stand and gather her belongings.

She had avoided Hannah the day after.

Actually, she had avoided almost all of them the day after. She had done strategically with Eric under the guise of her original project. Almost all of the previous Mount Weather residents had exceptional health histories. The cancer cases were relatively higher than most other illnesses, but it wasn’t something Abby hadn’t been prepared for. After all, they lived in a bunker in a world soaked with radiation. For ninety-seven years their society thrived within the walls that doubled as shields and filtration systems. Their medical advances were basic. In fact, Abby had seen much more advanced technology on the Ark, but they also were a society of handpicked survivors of only the best and most intelligent kind.

How did they go from such high regard to chosen life to have people like Hannah Green and most of Agro Station just managing to get by, or the Blakes’ and others in Factory Station? Even the poorest member of Mount Weathers’ population still had the best medical treatment available and livable quarters! The deeper she dug the more determined she became. She would not be a Chancellor that allowed her people to live the way they had on the Ark! She wouldn’t treat the Earth like a hunk of metal floating in orbit! They simply were not the same things and for a brief moment she had felt inadequate for her job and position.

“You’re doing it again, seriously, Abby, you’re going to tear your skin open and get an infection and then I’ll have to amputate your thumb.”

She pulled back from her thoughts and blinked at her partner. She hadn’t even realized her thumb was still in her mouth or that the file she had opened had been on the same page for several minutes. Abby also couldn’t form a proper response, so instead she asked, “Where are you at with the files?”

“Yeah okay, we can play it that way.” Eric snorted as he checked his stack of files. “I’m only a quarter of the way through the files with last names starting in C. And you’ve been reading that file for a solid ten minutes, so it must have something good in it.”

Abby shook her head, closed the folder and pushed it aside, “Actually,” she pondered, “nothing good in it, I was just distracted.”

“I’ll say. Are you still worried about Clarke?”

“I’ll always worry about Clarke!” Abby smirked over at her friend. “I think going through these files has reminded me that these were people like you and I, like the grounders. It makes it difficult to settle into their home without a little bit of guilt.”

“Well that only makes you human. I think the fact that they’re not in an encrypted database makes it difficult to look at it from an apathetic viewpoint. I expected their technology to counter ours.”

“Right, but remember, these people were selected by their government for a reason just like our founding citizens were selected for another.”

“Is that what you’re thinking about?”

Abby shook her head and heaved out another breath; “I don’t even know Eric! I just keep thinking about what Hannah Green said to me. That we survived and that’s all that matters… well they survived,” she gestured to the stack of files on the desk in front of her, “but it clearly was not all that mattered. The grounders too! I don’t want my people to _just_ survive anymore.”

Eric nodded along, “Of course you don’t want your people to just make it by day by day.” he said in agreement. “There will be a time for celebration soon; it’s why Clarke and the others are in Polis.”

Abby sighed and rubbed at her eyes. “In the meantime, we still have work to do.”

“And you need to figure out what to do with the Agro Station survivors.”

“And I need to do that.” Abby huffed out another breath; she could feel the stress headache as it formed at the base of her skull. “I can’t keep them cooped up there much longer, but all of them roaming around unsupervised makes me nervous.”

“We’ll figure it out Abby, we always do.” Eric placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. The pair returned to their work in a heavy silence for the remainder of the afternoon. Eric didn’t comment on the lack of enthusiasm from Abby, nor did he point out the times she let her mind wander and distract her from her work. He respected Abby; deeply admired her even, but he certainly did not envy her.

* * *

It’s not the first time Roan has killed someone within his mother's ranks. It wasn’t even the second or the third time! Roan had a knack for fighting, he was a warrior after all, and death came hand in hand with battle. If it was one thing his father taught him, it was that life is a battle and people are always at war. The teachings weren’t ground breaking or shocking by the late King of Azgeda. Roans’ paternal grandparents were both alive during the bombings. They lived in a bunker where the birth and death of the first commander happened. They were both fiercely loyal individuals who had taken part in the expedition of the new world outside of the bunker. From there they helped delegate the split of the population to form the twelve clans. They eventually married -although, to them it was more of a blood oath, and had his father. His grandfather had decided on a monarchy for the Ice Nation to ensure that their family history never dissolved with death. So when Roans’ father married Nia, one of the clans best female warriors, it had been expected for them to produce an heir to ascend to the throne when the time came.

There was no specification of gender to be a ruler in Azgeda, just that you had to be born of royal blood. Despite that, it was clear that Roans’ father was far more pleased to have a son than he was to have a wife. From the tender age of four Roan had shadowed his father in almost everything! How to handle disputes between the people of their clan and the people of other clans. He taught him how to hunt and fish and how to track. Roan had been raised to marry and produce an heir for himself one day, so he was taught how to treat a woman and the customs of each clan so he did not disrespect them. And it wasn’t that his father loved him more than his mother did. It was just that Nia was only prominent in his happiest of memories as a child. She never fought to spend time with her son or to teach him how to run a household, host a feast or how to dance! Instead Nia taught these skills to the prominent young women she thought would be good future matches for the kingdom.

After his fathers’ death in a tragic hunting accident Nia had taken over the duties of both King and Queen. Roan wished he had been able to do more for his mother, but she hid her heartache behind cruelty. Roan started his training to become a warrior at the young age of nine, whereas most of the children aren’t required to report for training until they’re twelve. He had to live up to the legend of his mother and father. He had to work twice as hard, because he was the prince and therefore couldn’t possibly be taken seriously. He had to prove himself to the older boys! They were bigger than him, stronger than him and they automatically resented him because he was the prince of their people. He would be held down and kicked until he vomited or punched in the gut until he couldn’t breathe. It was his own realm of personal hell. It had taken four years, but on the morning of his thirteenth birthday the leading instructor had pushed just a little too far. Insulted the former King and his upbringing and Roan snapped. The spar match turned deadly within seconds when the older warrior realized that Roan was out for blood.

He was pulled off of the scumbags body by three of the older boys -all of which were set to complete their training within the following months, and as he spit the blood out of his mouth he looked around the sparring circle; “Anyone else?” he had challenged, but nobody stepped forward.

From that day on Roan had the respect of his comrades and the reputation of a trouble maker with his instructors. His mother had not been impressed, rebuked him and reminded him that he was a royal and royals don’t act like barbarians just because their feelings are hurt. She had him lashed ten times, a sitting of five each with a twelve hour gap in between, for his insolence. The night he had laid face down on his bed she had appeared in his room and softly combed his unruly locks from his sweaty forehead, praised him and told him how proud she was of him. She explained to him that images had to be kept up; otherwise it would look like she favored him over the common people of their clan. In his young mind it made perfect sense, but as he grew older he realized that his own mother spewed was lies and hatred.

When he was seventeen he had been working with the younger warriors. As all the warriors do before they’re graduated into battle! There was one boy in particular that had caught his attention above the rest. He had been quiet and reserved, but he worked much harder than any of the kids in his group. Physically there was no need for him to double his effort, but Roan could tell that his heart wasn’t in the lessons on the life of a warrior. He was smart, far too smart to be stuck in the ranks of the Azgeda Army. Using his position as prince he had gathered information as he saw fit; Bellamy had been a promising addition to the bookkeepers, the storytellers of the clan. He would one day be part of the few chosen to recount the history of Azgeda and the clans that surrounded it, but first all he had to do was complete his requirements to the clan. He had to serve as a warrior, or at least train as one, but that wasn’t all. His mother Aurora had been one of Nias’ closest advisors. She served alongside Nia in battle countless times and then acted as the crown spy when needed. Only she couldn’t concede to the demand Nia had made her. Aurora did what she had to do to protect her children. Roan always respected her for that, but the punishment worked its way down to her son.

Bellamy painted a target on his back the day he stood up to Edmund, a mean and stupid guard that was known for picking on the smaller men. Of course, Bellamy never stood by and let it go, because he was a bigger man than that. He stopped Edmund from ripping a nameless brat apart over a stutter, the poor kid couldn’t help that he stuttered, but it annoyed Edmund and therefore he had to be handled. Bellamy intervened before the first hit could connect to the tender young flesh. It ended with both of them strung up in Nias’ throne room for two days. In those two days Octavia, Bellamy’s sister, was left defenseless and Roan had taken it upon himself to make sure nothing happened to her. Not that Bellamy knew that, and not that Roan would ever admit to it. Still, upon their release Edmund had immediately (formally) challenged Bellamy. It wasn’t that Roan thought Bellamy couldn’t handle himself, especially against a belligerent opponent such as the old bastard, but Edmund was a loose cannon.

To avoid his mothers’ anger at his involvement he slipped Edmund a poison that was popularly used by the _Louwoda Kilron Kru_. It worked slowly through the body; so naturally, Roan slipped him some the evening before he was set to fight Bellamy. Roan had relied on Edmunds’ poor self control and hoped that he’d drink himself to sleep that night. His gamble paid off and Edmund woke in the morning sicker than he had ever been, but did that stop the poor sap from his challenge? No, and so Edmund stumbled into the sparring yards to tear Bellamy apart. Bellamy had a small following behind him and they all cheered as their leader landed hit after hit on the surly guard. Roan had watched the fight from a distance and was still impressed with how well Bellamy reacted to his opponent. He was swift and utilized the most force possible for the quickest hits. It was rather impressive! If one considered the blatant fact that Bellamy was not meant to become a warrior.

The fight had started to dwindle down with Edmunds’ clear exhaustion, but the man wasn’t to be outwitted by a pompous brat. When he had pulled out his weapon he expected his opponent to retreat or cower, but instead the brat smirked and fought harder. Unbeknownst to Edmund the outsider looking in could see the way his body moved with less coordination. His arms swung blindly with the sword and as Bellamy dodged his attacks he stumbled closer to the crowd. There was obviously something wrong with him!

Bellamy had noticed the change in his demeanor within minutes of their match. Sure, he had taken a couple hits, but they all lacked the normal force that Edmund was notoriously known for. The man was a jerk, but he was one the best warriors Azgeda had and that was why he guarded Queen Nia personally. Amongst other things, but Bellamy tended to leave that speculation open. He was also a drunk and Bellamy had quite the experience with the drunkards of the clan. Edmund managed to get one lucky slice in towards Bellamy’s upper arm, he swung blindly and stumbled back as if to catch his balance, but it opened up the opportunity for the younger warrior to get up close with his opponent and take control of the weapon. There had been no intention for the fight to end in death, at least not on Bellamys’ front, but when both men tumbled it was the works of Bellamy that ensured he’d land without a sword in his gut. Bellamy had been hailed a hero after the fight, but it didn’t feel right.

Roan looked on from the distance with a pleased smirk.

Then life continued on for both the prince and the newly popular soldier. Roan attended important meetings with other clans to solidify trade and peace talks while his mother was content to sit on a throne and order people around. Despite the change in commander and push for peace from the new regime it appeared that Nia had remained on her war path. She had acquired another spy and this time instead of stealth missions to sabotage other villages this spy was attached to Roans’ expedition group. It was the job of said spy to relay every deal and promise that Roan made to other clan leaders back to Queen Nia. It was also expected for them to present detailed notation on entries and exits to the clans, general population build up, and of course their own warrior training. Roan had expected his mother to pull a stunt like that. Planned for it actually, but the outcome wasn’t quite right.

Of all the people in his group he had never anticipated Echo to be the spy. It left a mark of betrayal on his heart, though he’d never openly admit it. Echo was a girl with an athletic build and long brown hair, her eyes observed everything around her and her wit was quick and tongue sharp. She was an orphan and had been taken in by Queen Nia after she had seized the land that belonged to Echos’ family. The details were hazy, but Roan remembered the anger the Queen directed towards two of the warriors who had executed the young girl's parents. Back before simple executions became the daily doings. Echo trained alongside his mother for years and stayed mostly hidden. In fact it was Roans’ expedition that was her first mission outside of the clan! The two of them had shared little moments; she’d be dropping something off to his quarters or he’d be seeking her out for his mother. He really should have been better prepared.

Naturally when he saw one of his men had pinned her to the ground with his hands around her neck to choke her he had reacted instinctively. The warrior was ripped off of Echo by Roan and thrown to the ground. Echo coughed as she pushed herself out of the way. She rubbed at her throat while Roan stalked towards his newfound enemy and hoisted him off the ground by his collar; “What do you think you’re doing?”

The man kicked and flailed as he stumbled over his words, “I-I-I figured out who the spy was!”

“And you figured it was Echo?” Who had still been behind him and looked smaller than herself and still gasped for breath. “What proof do you have?”

“I have enough! Put me down and I can show you!”

“Roan please!” Echo pleaded from behind him, her eyes were wild and frantic and it caused his grip to tighten around his victims’ collar. “Roan, you don’t have to do this.”

“I’ll deal with you in a minute.” he bit out viciously, “In what world is it okay for you to act without permission? Especially when it comes to you attempting to kill one of my mother’s most regarded personnel!”

“Roan!”

“Be quiet Echo!”

“But Roan-”

He turned and snarled at her, “Go sit down and shut up.”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“You’re right, my _mother_ is. Stand down Echo, now.”

Echo didn’t argue. The sting in his words was real but the hurt in his eyes was what stuck out to her the most. He did eventually let his warrior down and then promptly snapped his neck. Echo flinched at the sound of the crack and clenched her jaw as his body fell to the ground. She watched as Roan shook out his shoulders before he turned to face her and she couldn’t mistake anything that she saw in his face. She attempted to apologize only for him to hold his hand up in a silent command for her to stop. She had never clenched her jaw as tightly as she had in that moment.

“We leave for home at dawn, you’ll report to my mother everything that’s expected of you and then you’ll request a new assignment.”

Echo shook her head, “Roan if you would just listen to me.”

“I’m done listening to you.” He bit out furiously as he turned and walked away. His voice carried through the quickly darkening woods, “You can tell my mother you killed Beck to keep your position safe. That can be why you’re requesting a new mission. Then you can leave me be for good.”

“I’m sorry Roan!”

He shrugged, his back still turned towards her, but he did spare a glance at her over the shoulder, “Or you can just not come back at all.”

Roan did not immediately return to the rest of his men, instead he opted to take a slight detour to walk and clear his head. It was during the walk through the woods that he heard the familiar Trikru warning sound and he knew he had to act fast. There wouldn’t have been enough time to get back to his warriors, so he found coverage where he could as the acid fog trickled through the land. Once the fog lifted he waited to ensure he was alone before he left the coverage in the height of the trees. When he had returned to where he and his companions made camp he was not shocked to see it abandoned as it were. Instead he made his way towards the rendezvous point.

His men spotted him before he saw them and they let out whoops of greeting. He surveyed the damage, they managed to flee in time with the horses but there were three casualties. Beck (whom Roan had killed, though he didn’t own up to it), a young inexperienced warrior (who Roan would mourn for respectively) and Echo. He swallowed thickly at the sound of her name, but otherwise didn’t seem phased. “Confirmed casualties?”

“The only confirmed casualty we can list is Beck. We found his body a small distance away from our camp after the fog lifted. The reapers came out unexpectedly; last we saw were Echo and Oswe fighting off the Reapers from the rear. I watched her fall, but I didn’t see what happened to the kid.”

Roan nodded along and then mounted one of the now extra horses; “We return home!”

Their home was a war zone within a week of their return. The battles were long and grueling, but the queen persisted and the commander would not relent. By the end of it Queen Nia had been advised by her most faithful and loyal servant Link to conform to Commander Lexas’ wishes. Nia had killed the lover of their commander who had been on peace missions throughout the twelve clans -who Roan had found himself fond of, and in return she demanded that the queen end her monarchy by the banishment of her son. For the briefest moment Roan had expected his mother to retaliate with more violence, but it had been Link that talked her through it and discussed the ramifications of a long drawn-out war. Roan had been banished at dawn the next morning in front of the commander and the other clan leaders by his mother while Link smirked from his position to the right of Nia. It was not only an embarrassment but devastation to Roan.

Yet again, he should have been better prepared. Life as an outlaw wasn’t easy, but he made due and he managed to create an image for himself! He treated life more as a fun game than a political success story and enjoyed the company he kept -when he chose to keep it. He had heard of the sky people, he had heard of their leader (a spunky fair skinned, light haired girl with the clearest of blue eyes) and he had heard of the lengths she’d gone to for her people. He admired her for it and so when Lexa had sought him out and explained to him the proposition the council would soon be given on top of the folklore that had attached itself to the Sky Princess. He had not been shocked to find out that his mother had started seeking out the girl, desperation drives the mind wild. Nor was he shocked once he had met her just how much he’d like her.

He was shocked when the plan had gone from A) protecting the Sky Princess and making sure nobody interfered with peace talks to B) ensuring that the candidate the commander pushed forward won the challenge to C) become the ambassador for Azgeda and officially work against his mother. Not that his mother knew he’d be working against her, not that anyone knew he was working against her, but the principle was there. Link had never personally offended him or rubbed him the wrong way, he just happened to be very good at his job and could manipulate his mother in ways that were inappropriate for a son to dwell on. It went deeper than that, Roan knew that too, because his mother hadn’t relied on anyone else since his father and that loss must have been hard. It wasn’t an excuse for her unorthodox methods of ruling the Ice Nation people, but it was reasoning and Roan could see it clearly. Link, was another case.

Link made sound arguments and judgements when it came to the dealings between Lexa and Nia. However, he was just as much of a weasel as the next. It was unfortunate that the moment Roan had chosen to strike would be the moment that Link would have his plans conspiring against Nia out in plain sight. It was almost too perfect! No elaborate plan on how to explain the man’s’ death would be needed. Not with the papers on his nightstand next to him. It would even be in Roans’ favor to the rest of the commanders’ council! Link had startled upon the intrusion and sneered at the former prince; “What are you doing here?”

“Hello old friend, what do we have here?” Link had tried to move to cover his papers, but Roan was quicker and blocked the older man off. “This looks like something you wouldn’t want found…” he turned his head towards the evidence and reached for the top piece of paper, “... let’s see what we have!”

Link attempted to reach for the paper frantically, “That would be none of your concern! Get out before I call the guards on you!”

Roan continued to read the paper and fend off Links’ attempts to thwart him, “Tsk, tsk my old friend, you seem to have forgotten that I am the Prince of Azgeda and therefore anything that involves my kingdom and people involves me.”

“You are no more prince than your mother is queen.”

“Now that,” Roan started with a raised eyebrow and smirk, “sounded almost like you disregarding your queen. And from the looks of these documents it would seem like you plan to overthrow her.”

“It makes no difference to a heathen like you, you were banished!” Link dodged around the bigger man to shout out the door, “Guards!”

“There’s really no point in doing that.”

Link continued as if he hadn’t heard Roan and only stopped when he felt the man wrap his arm over his shoulder, “You see Link; I’m here on orders by the commander.”

“State your business and then leave.”

Roan chuckled darkly, “If you really insist.” as he plunged the dagger from his side into Links’. The man gasped and ripped away from Roan with the dagger still protruding from his side, but the amount of blood that quickly seeped and spread over the clothing indicated that Roan had hit a vital organ. “I’ll be taking these documents as evidence of your betrayal. You really saved me a heep of trouble by your arrogance.”

“Y-Y-Your mother won’t tol-tolerate this!” Link slumped to the ground with his back against the wall. The pain was manageable and so long as he left the dagger in he was sure he could find medical help. He just had to distract Roan long enough to do so. “Do y-y-you really think she’ll welcome you with open arms?”

“It doesn’t really matter how she feels, the deal has already been struck with our Commander. This,” he flashed the papers as he continued to skim through them; his body blocked the only entry to the room, “just makes it easier for everyone. I must say you’re very detailed in your coup.”

“You bastard.” Link spit out, his blood stained his teeth and lips and the taste of copper filled his mouth. “You think you’re so clever…”

Roan raised his eyebrows and sent a taunting smile to the dying man in the corner. “Not really, I could never pull off an entire coup of a monarchy. And as it appears neither could you. Now let’s see one of your steps before you intended to poison my mother was to gain control of Wanheda. Hence your insistence on the Rights of Favor. Interesting…”

Link narrowed his eyes, his hands trembled against his side and his breathing was erratic but he was coherent and livid. “That’s right; Heda Lexa refused to eliminate her, but not your mother. Your mother would have no issue slitting that pesky brat’s throat. I bring your mother Wanheda, the sky people kill her for killing their precious girl and then all of those your mother has oppressed in her years of cruelty can rise up and rebuild Azgeda for what it’s truly worth!”

“Your plan is flawed my friend.”

Link watched as Roan crossed the floor and crouched down in front of him, his arrogance palpable. Link demanded to know in what context Roan talked about to which the unruly barbarian said, “Azgeda will raise to its true worth _with_ the sky people and it’ll be a shame that you won’t be around to see it.”

“Mark my words, you’ll regret trusting those invaders.”

“Perhaps…” Roan ripped the dagger from Links’ side and swiftly shoved it through his chest, “perhaps not.”

Roan collected the papers from the little side table and gathered them up and then made his way out of Links’ room. The guards posted at the end of the hall eyed him curiously, but he gave them the signal that all was well and continued on. Lexa would be awaiting his report in her meeting room and he didn’t want to be late. He gripped the papers from Links’ room tightly and slammed through the door frame with a scowl. Lexa awaited his arrival and didn’t so much as flinch from her seat directly across from him.

“So it’s done then?”

“It’s done, but you may be interested in these.”

She took the papers from him and skimmed through them with her eyes. Her face remained passive but she did let out an agitated breath; “Are you aware of what this means?”

“It means there are people in my clan that are desperate for a new life. A possible uprising in the near future if something isn’t done.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Out smart them, kill my mother and ascend to the throne.”

Lexa smirked deviously and handed the papers back to him, “Very well then, we’ll make your position known to the council at first light. Are we sharing this information or not?”

“I think it would be best for now to leave the details of Links’ betrayal to my mother out of anything that’s going on with the alliance.”

“Alright, so long as none of my people are in danger I’ll concede to your wishes. Anything else?”

“Is the challenge for Rights of Favor moving forward?”

“The candidates have already been chosen and presented to me earlier this evening.” Lexa shrugged easily, though he could sense the distaste in her words, “It would be offensive to the clan ambassadors if we didn’t acknowledge it.”

“And the Sky People are truly okay with that?”

Lexa huffed, “Of course not, they’re still within their beliefs that Clarke is some sacrificial lamb and that this was all a ploy by me.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“No. I knew it was a possibility, so I made sure that she would be present, but I had hoped that it wouldn’t have happened. Now that I see the proof in front of me, there was always going to be a conspiracy that involved Clarke.”

“So why not do what the Sky People do? Give her a choice in the matter from the candidates selected. They were right, you know, earlier today, that their traditions are different from ours. They’ll never truly believe in this alliance if we don’t adapt to them as well.”

“Titus doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Fuck Titus!” Roan bit out in agitation, “If any of the sky people goes rogue and seeks retribution against _our_ people for what’s happened to them are you prepared for that?”

Lexas’ demeanor changed within an instant and he knew that it was no longer just her speaking, but the past commanders as well, “Do you think I haven’t worked out that possibility? I am well aware of the position we are all in. I must do what is best for my people.”

“And I have to do what’s best for mine.”

Lexa watched as he walked away. He had snatched the papers from her loose grip with his last statement and it felt scolding. She leaned her head back against the seat with closed eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t afford to have anything go wrong. The sky people were already suspicious, and rightfully so, she thought to herself, but still the pressure from their previous relationship weighed heavily. Her feelings for Clarke also weighed heavily. It was the cost of being a leader, as one of the previous commanders told her. Something about inevitable loss; something she felt when Nia had killed Costia. Her bitterness with Ice Nation for their primitive ways sometimes overlapped the voices of the commanders within the flame. Her treatment of them and disdain towards them was apparent in her dealings with Link and Nia and even Roan. And the guilt that came with it settled deep in her stomach.

_You know what needs to be done…_

The voices whispered in her head and she nodded, although nobody was in front of her to see it. She got up and made her way to the window, with her hands crossed at her back. The moon illuminated the sky and she let the beams soak through her skin. She knew what needed to be done and she knew the commanders of the past were right. With her mind set she opened her eyes and let out a cleansing breath before she turned and retreated to her bedroom to rest.


	7. oh god, can it be true?

Bellamy didn’t sleep well in new places. He blamed it on his lifestyle in Ice Nation, having to always be on edge tended to create odd habits. Add in the extra stress of ensuring Octavias’ well-being and it was a recipe for disaster. Even in his own home he slept light and adjusted to the softest noises around him. Most days it didn’t bother him, especially when he had a consistent schedule to work with, but sometimes it weighed him down on missions. He’s rarely left Ice Nation -Queen Nia didn’t want him wandering off, needed to keep him close. Since he lived his life in his mother’s shadow nothing that Queen Nia decided was too extreme for him. Unless it involved his sister. Poor Octavia lived her life tucked away in a corner as a servant to their queen. She had never experienced true friendship and it was likely that she’d remain a shadow herself until the day the queen died. 

Octavia often speculated that it would be soon. Bellamy insisted that she stop talking about it, but his sister was stubborn and fought him on everything. Nia was unwell and the blood clots that stained her bedding after a night of her heavy and wet coughs only confirmed that death was coming for her. When the rumors of Wanheda had first started they excited Octavia, she confessed to wishing that the Commander of Death would sweep through the Ice Nation and collect the souls of those that abused their positions. She never outright said she wished death on Queen Nia, that would be a crime punishable by death itself, but the implication was there. Each time she said it, Bellamy had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. 

He had heard the same stories as O, but could never truly believe in them. It simply wasn’t plausible! The way they talked of this sky-girl one would think she leveled the same power as the Gods of ancient times. Something that Bellamy simply could not see! He had always been a skeptic, never trusting anything he was told unless there was something to physically tie the pieces together. He had books, handed down from generations past, of the ancient civilizations and their beliefs and myths. He didn’t necessarily believe in what the books said, but the printed pages were evidence enough that these stories started  _ somewhere _ by  _ someone _ . Until recently, he had thought the stories of people in the sky were just a way to get kids to behave well; like the monster under the bed awaiting the toes of naughty children at night. 

Of course, said theory was literally blown away by the ship that landed right in the middle of the Woods Clan’s territory. If it had landed in any of the clans further west it was likely that none of the Coalition would have ever gotten involved with the aliens. Only they weren’t aliens, they were apparently kids. A small dainty group of kids managed to hold their own against Anya’s formidable army with a fire that consumed three-hundred warriors. Bellamy silently scrutinized the numbers, three-hundred felt extreme to him and he wondered how much of the story was exaggeration. Then three other ships fell to the ground and it became increasingly more difficult to simply doubt the validity of the Sky People. Octavia crowed for a week about Bellamy’s lack of faith when it came to her power of gossip. It didn’t matter, he was sure that they would no longer exist after they challenged the mountain. 

He also did not agree with Commander Lexa that night, even though he hadn’t actually been there. Bellamy had been told by some of his friends and comrades that Lexa struck a deal with the sky people; they released the boy who killed eighteen innocent lives and provided their cure for the Reapers disease and in return they stood alongside the coalition army and got their people out of the mountain. Except it didn’t quite happen that way. His friend Porter recounted it all in explicit detail. They stood at the main entrance to the mountain and waited while Wanheda stood at the front and demanded that the mount men's’ Heda stand down and release the prisoners. He said there was a moment of panic when some soldiers came out of the mountain, but almost as quickly as they arrived they left. And the next thing the warriors knew Lexa had managed to strike a deal with the Mountain Men. Their people were released moments later and the Sky People were on their own. 

Bellamy asked, “And you were okay with it?” 

“No,” Porter said as he sipped at his ale around their nightly fire, “not even a little bit.” 

The victory over the mountain was a heavy strain amongst the grounder clans. They didn’t believe that storming the fortress would work. They didn’t trust the information the outsiders gave them. They didn’t act honorably! In the end the clans felt as if they had awakened a monster and Bellamy knew it was a sincere concern. That concern turned into a fable and that fable turned into a half thought-out plot that Queen Nia latched on to. She clung to it like a newborn to their mother. It was maddening! And then Bellamy had found himself involved, because when his queen had asked if he believed in the stories he said no. And he had meant it! He said no because things like the Commander of Death simply didn’t exist. Just as he felt that the flame and all its powers and connections to commanders of the past didn’t exist. He loved the stories in the books, but he challenged them as much as he challenged the world around him. 

He sighed and heaved himself up and out of bed. Now that his mind had ran away from him he realized sleep was just not going to happen for him. He threw some clothing on and made his way out of his room. The guards in the hall acknowledged him with a head tilt, which he returned easily enough and then he proceeded down the stairs to the ground. The noises of Polis filled the air around him, despite it being late at night, there was still chattering in the streets and echoes of laughter from the tavern. He didn’t stray far from the tower, he tried to his first night in Polis, the night Roan decided that he was a trustworthy ally. There wasn’t much else to do in the late hour except sit and drink and Bellamy was not going to let himself indulge in something as reckless as drinking in Polis. Instead he wandered to the small patch of garden, it offered him some peace and reminded him of home. During the day the garden was always flooded with people; nightbloods training or warriors sparring, things like that, but at night? At night it was tranquil. 

He hadn’t expected anyone else to be in the greenery so he jumped back he realized that a girl was seated on the ground near the pond. She had already let out a rushed breath and her eyes were wide, her stance rigid and posed ready to run so he felt the need to hold his hands up. The universal sign of peace, or so he was always taught, and then he tentatively stepped around her to the other side of the pond. He felt her eyes on him, but instead of feeling unnerved it was intriguing. The moonlight was sparse that night, so it was hard to tell what shade her eyes were, but he could see her hair was light and her skin pale. She wasn’t dressed like a normal Polis citizen and Bellamy felt his curiosity grow, so much so that he broke the trance like silence that settled between the both of them. 

“Awfully brave of you to wander around strange territory at night Sky Girl.” Bellamy’s voice carried across the small water feature, but she didn’t give him more than a dainty shrug. “What are you doing out here all alone?” 

At that her attention snapped to him and she looked almost indifferent, “What does it matter?” 

“It doesn’t, I was just making an observation Princess.” 

She bristled at the name and huffed; “Not my name.” 

“Well since you’ve yet to introduce yourself I have nothing else to call you.” Bellamy bit out in return with irritation, “What brings you here?” 

She raised an eyebrow and looked around, “Are you making small talk?” 

“Well, I was trying to, but if you insist on being rude then I don’t have to.” 

“I wasn’t being rude!” 

He snorted; “Could have fooled me.” he mumbled as he proceeded to make himself more comfortable. Instead of staying seated he opted to stretch out on the ground so that he could chase the constellations with his eyes and mind. The pair sat on opposite sides of the pond in a tense silence, the kind that’s not quite awkward, but definitely not comfortable either. After a few moments of it he heard rustling to his left and when he turned his head he noticed that she had stretched herself out on the ground as well. Her feet lined up with his head and her hands were folded across her chest. 

“Tell me about her.” 

She lifted her head off the ground to look over at him, “About who?” she asked. 

“You know, Wanheda, your commander of death. Tell me about her.” 

She blinked as she rested her head back against the cool earth. She didn’t really know where to start, or how to start, because it was clear that this man had no idea who  _ she _ was. Clarke had been warned that her obvious appearance would give her away to almost any grounder she came across and to use extreme caution. Obviously she heeded the warning; sneaking out of her room in the middle of the night while Murphy was on duty to wander into an unguarded and deserted garden on her own was using plenty of caution. Still this grounder didn’t seem to peace it together at all! He just made himself comfortable across the way and acted as if she wasn’t even there! Although she had to admit to herself, it was nice to have someone treat her like a nobody. She wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t some kind of trap, maybe he did know about her and he just wanted her to play along to release some vital pieces of information. Maybe he was attempting to exploit a weakness. There were multiple possibilities to his abrupt question, but none of them sat right in her gut. 

Finally, she settled for, “Why do you want to know so bad?” 

He replied, “Because Princess, the sky people are a taboo around here and I want to know if this girl is all she’s cracked up to be.” 

“It’s rude to call a population a taboo, we don’t call your people taboo.” 

“Well, you also landed in our territories, what did you expect?” 

She sat up with a groan, “We  _ didn’t mean _ to! It wasn’t planned, we weren’t even sure the Earth was survivable! And if any of  _ your  _ people had just taken a second to listen to us rather than spearing us in the chest we could have avoided almost everything that transpired between our peoples!” 

“With all your fancy technology how could you not know that people were down here?” 

“See, that,” she pointed a finger at him, “that right there is the problem!” 

He rolled his eyes, though she couldn’t see it, “The only problem I see is that you refuse to answer my question.” 

“How do I know you’re not just looking for information so you can attempt to kill her?” 

“You don’t.” 

She snorted, “Thanks, I feel so much better.” sarcasm dripped from her voice as she stared at his profile. He hadn’t even bothered to sit up and face her for this conversation, he just continued to stare intently at the sky. “Who are you anyway?” 

“Me?” He shrugged and gestured to the open air, “I’m nobody, I’m just here in Polis because I was told to be. I assume you’re in the same boat? Otherwise I doubt your people would let you be wandering alone this late at night, especially given you’re…” he gestured with his hands in her general direction, “you.” 

“I’ll have  _ you _ know that I’m perfectly capable of handling myself and I  _ don’t need _ a guard.” 

“How would I know?” 

And that stops her, because he is being rude, but he’s not entirely wrong. She’s not going to tell him that of course, so instead of answering she just throws herself back to the ground to stew about it. The stranger with the shaggy brown hair seems apathetic to her obviously disgruntled nature and doesn’t so much as flinch at her huffs and puffs. They lapse into another round of silence until Clarke finds herself answering his original question.

“She was sent down to Earth as a delinquent, you know a criminal, that’s how the first group of sky people got down here.” 

His fingers flex against his chest, but otherwise he remains quiet as if he’s contemplating his next question, which of course he is. “Why though?” 

“Why was she a criminal?” 

“No,” he dismissed with an absent wave of his hand, arrogance radiated off of him, “no why send a group of criminals down to a planet when you’re not even sure it’s livable? Unless you’re telling me that your leaders made this decision knowing they could be condemning them all to death.” 

“The Ark, where we lived in space and now the center point of our camp, was dying. It wasn’t going to be able to sustain life. We already lived under strict population growth restrictions-” 

“Restrictions? On the natural order of humankind?” He sat up this time, pulled his knees up to rest his forearms on them and stared at the girl who fumbled for words. “I’ve heard of playing God before, but never so close to his home turf.” 

“We weren’t playing God! We were just trying to survive.” 

“What happens if you have a child?” 

“Then that’s it, both parents are then sterilized so that they can’t have any more.” 

“That’s  _ sick _ .” 

She shrugged and picked at her thumbnail, “That’s life in space, you can’t have more than one kid and you don’t break the law.” 

“Let me guess, if you break the law you’re confined and then sent to a potentially inhabitable planet?” 

Bellamy watched as the girl sat up and met his eyes from across the way. “If you break the law as an adult you’re sentenced to death with no jury, no judge and no mercy. Luckily the council spared juvenile criminals and would house them until their eighteenth birthday where they would face a trial with a jury of peers and a judge. Almost ninety percent of the retrials ended in execution.” 

“ _ Fuck _ .” she smirked at his apparent distress and then laid back down, but Bellamy couldn’t process it. She continued to ramble on about some other restrictions and general life of the Ark, the classism that overtook the population upon the joining of twelve countries. The theory that there could be more survivors all around the world! And if they could just figure out how to get there and communicate with them what that could mean for humanity. He listened to her talk about living amongst the stars and although life was about necessity and order there were still cherishable moments. She doesn’t touch on their justice system, but he can’t stop thinking about it and then finally he realizes she’s no longer talking and just staring at the sky and he sets his eyes on her. 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m eighteen now, I have to be, I only had two weeks left up there before my trial date.” 

Bellamy can’t believe just how sad she sounds. “You were one of them?” 

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’ and he wanted to splash water at her. “The youngest was a girl named Charlotte, she was about seven, she uh, fell into one of the traps in the woods. We couldn’t save her. A member of  _ Trikru  _ tried, but his commander, Anya wouldn’t allow anyone to help us.” 

“So they sent children down to save their asses?” 

“I guess you could see it that way…” she continued to stare at the sky for a moment and then held her hand up, “ _ Wanheda _ is just a myth, all she did was what she thought was right. Sometimes she doesn’t feel like a person, you know? She’s this expectation and this position, but really, she’s just a kid that was sent down here with ninety-nine other kids and she tried her best. Truth is, I kind of pity her.” 

“Why’s that?” Bellamy asked as he picked at the grass beside him, he watched her finger trace through the open air. He wondered if she was going to respond or not, but she just continued to drag her finger along the sky, like she was connecting the stars or something. 

She sat up slowly and shook out her head and then made a move to stand. Instinctively Bellamy followed her movements, lest he be unprepared for a sudden attack, but she just shrugged her cloak on and then met his eye. She looked tired and sad, but she stood tall and proud. Then she smirked and said “I pity her because when people find out there’s nothing truly remarkable about her, she’ll still be the one that made all the hard choices and she’ll always have those consequences on her shoulders.” 

Without so much as a backward glance Clarke walked past the man and he didn’t try to stop her. Instead Bellamy just watched as she slipped back into the shadows. He thought she was odd and even a little dark, but he couldn’t necessarily blame her for that. It also got him thinking, there was so much about the sky people that nobody really knew! He needed to consult Link, or even worse, Roan. There wasn’t a lot of time left before the Rights of Favor challenge started, just a few flimsy hours really, but his gut settled and his instincts screamed at him to act. He wandered back to his room not long after the mysterious sky girl departed. He was able to get a few hours of rest before he was beckoned for his duties. 

He walked into the main hall, where the Rights of Favor challenge would be initiated and stopped short. Standing before him was Roan and his eyes flickered to the remaining empty seat of the Ice Nation Ambassador Link. His eyes trailed around the room and landed on Roan who nodded once and he had to bite back a groan. His act of righteousness would have to wait, something else was going on. 

* * *

Zoe hated that she had to be the one to disturb Clarke from the first real semblance of rest in the last twenty-four hours. She put it off as long as possible before Murphy popped his head and snapped at her. She grumbled as she crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed that Clarke occupied. She looked so small under the cocoon of blankets. It was bizarre for someone like Zoe to think of Clarke as small. There were dark circles under her leader's eyes and she felt clammy to the touch as she gently gripped Clarkes’ wrist. That was a bit of advice from Wells, “She’ll snap awake and for the first few seconds she’ll fight you.” and true enough her eyes snapped open with the lights of pressure against her skin. 

Clarke woke in a blind panic, like she always did, and swung wildly at the enemy she couldn’t see. The frenzy lasted only a few seconds, before she was able to immediately process that she was in the same room she woke up in the day before and that it was Zoe who had pinned her down in an effort to prevent injury. She felt her face heat with embarrassment, “I’m so sorry Zoe…” she repeated a few more times while the two girls sat up and Clarke straightened out her hair. “I don’t even know what came over me.” 

“It’s alright…” Zoe replied while she stared off at the wall across from them, “sometimes it’s me, other times it’s Murphy or Wells, but we’ve all been there.” 

“Thanks Zoe.” Clarke fiddled with the blanket a little bit before both girls made the move to stand up, “So what’s up with the early morning wake up call?” 

“Kane said you’re needed in the throne room.” 

“Awesome, any information you’d like to share with me?” 

“Well the potential representatives that each nation bought all vary in terms of status and career amongst their people. It was kind of hard to figure out who was going to be picked for each clan, but of the twelve that were chosen I did the best recon I could.” 

Clarke proceeded to change into her spare set of clothing, if a ratty shirt and ripped jeans could count, “You already spoke with Kane, so what about the final three he’s thinking about?” 

“Ice Nation is definitely in there!” Zoe perked up considerably at the thought and Clarke didn’t comment on it, “ _ Podakru _ , the river clan, decided to present their healers’ apprentice as their chosen. She seems intense and definitely reminded me of you, but I haven’t heard anything promising about their position. They’re one of the more peaceful clans, they utilize the running water ways to create boundaries and traps. Obviously, a mentality like that is far more beneficial than a clan that’s always looking for a fight.  _ Delfikru  _ selected one of their book keepers. He’s a little older than us, but he seemed super respectful and intelligent. Their clan is one of the coalition’s most prominent figures and their population is almost double  _ Trikru  _ and their location is well hidden. Unfortunately, they’re second to  _ Azgeda _ in terms of retribution and violence against newcomers.” 

“Great, so now tell me about Ice Nation.” 

“They selected a warrior, he’s well respected throughout their guard and apparently is pretty high ranking. I did the best recon I could, but it’s hard to get anything from anyone about them. Ice Nation keeps to themselves and they hate outsiders. Most of the people I spoke to confirmed that their queen, Nia, is desperate to get a hold of you. A lot of speculation towards her health came up as well. The one guard I spoke to directly said that they used to be a peaceful clan, back when they were ruled by a king, a descendant of the founding family to  _ Azgeda _ . Apparently after he died Nia didn’t respond well.” 

“You said our survivors came from Ice Nation territory, correct?” 

“That’s right and they were spitting mad. We had to divert them from attacking random grounder travelers throughout our way back to Camp Jaha, Arkadia, whatever it is.” Zoe dismissed easily with a scrunch of her nose. “It wasn’t hard to figure out that they definitely retaliated to whatever was thrown their way. Or whoever.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Clarke grumbled as she hastily threw her hair into a braid that rested off to the side and down the curve of her neck. “If they created any kind of tension with Ice Nation we need to resolve it.” 

Zoe nodded, “Ice Nation wants your head on a platter though, how can we know it’s not a trap?” 

“That’s where Roan comes into play.” Clarke slid on her boots. “Alright let’s get this over with.” 

The walk to the throne room was done so in hushed tones. Murphy and Wells reviewed the details of their positions, because neither of them trusted a room full of grounders to keep the peace. Zoe stayed behind to play outside interception. If anything was going to go wrong outside of the throne room, Zoe would be able to get back to Wells and Murphy and they’d be able to get out of there as soon as possible. Clarke felt nauseous and dizzy. The whole trip had left her in a whirlwind. She felt her fingers twitch in anticipation and then felt immediately guilty. The feeling that flowed throughout her was similar to when she walked the halls of Mount Weather with a purpose. It made her gag. The ground has turned her hopeful outlook on life into a consistent anticipation of war. 

As they approached the room the two guards that stood by the door held their hands up, a silent command for them to stay in place. Murphy grumbled under his breath, but then within seconds Clarke was beckoned forward and announced, “ _ Heda osir don Klark com Skaikru _ .” 

“ _ Teik her pass. _ ” 

And then Clarke was thrust into a space that was occupied by heavy silence. It only lasted a second before the uproar of voices took over. From her view at the entryway she could see Roan in an argument with another ambassador and Titus. Lexa looked to be in a heated discussion with Kane and the other ambassadors observed in silence with skeptical eyes or held their own side conversations. There was no order and it almost filled Clarke with some relief. She had only ever experienced the Grounder culture in a systematic way. To see them act the way that she feels internally was a huge relief and she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips. 

“What does Wanheda find so amusing about all this ruckus?” 

She turned her head sharply to the left, an ambassador from an unknown clan frowned at her, but his eyes twinkled. “I just like seeing the disorder. It makes it far less terrifying to be in here when it feels human.” 

“And are you terrified?” 

“Absolutely.” she replied affirmatively and then smiled softly at the older man as he nodded and chuckled along. A few moments later she realized that all eyes had been on them and that the chatter of the room had ceased to exist. With a slight flush to her cheeks she turned towards Lexa, “You wanted to see me?” 

Lexa cleared her throat and ushered Clarke forward with an overly enthusiastic, “Yes, yes, please come forward.” 

Clarke made her way to stand next to Kane who looked like he had just gone a round in a sparring session. She didn’t have too much time to really think about his disheveled appearance as Lexa’s voice overtook the room, “As it appears we’ve received news this morning of a traitor in our ranks. The Azgeda ambassador had constructed a plan to overthrow his queen and disrupt the peace of my coalition, would you like to know the terms of this plan  _ Klark kom Skaikru _ ?” 

“I think everyone should know the terms of this plan.” 

Lexa smirked and motioned for Titus to pass her the papers, “It appears that there is some unhappiness in the Ice Nation. Queen Nia has stopped putting the interest of her people ahead of her own personal ambitions and it’s created conflict, something that everyone here is aware of.” There nods and murmurs around the room in agreement. “Link had formed a Rebellion of sorts that would eventually overthrow the monarchy of the Ice Nation. His first mistake was to hand write the Rebellions’ plans down for anyone to see upon finding it, but the second mistake was to name those involved. They’ve already established an inner circle within Nia’s court, which was step one, but step two had barely begun.

“It appears that step two had been an infiltration of Nia’s resources, only to have that step crossed off and re-written. For whatever reason Link and his followers felt it best to utilize the sky people to overthrow their queen. Obviously some of these pages mean nothing as situations have changed. Because of this, I cannot act based on history, especially one that was theorized and never in completion, however there is a current plan that is actively in the works. Link called the Rights of Favor during our initial peace talks and claimed that there was a personal relationship between Clarke and myself that drove our alliance! The reality was he needed to call the Rights of Favor in an attempt to win the hand of  _ Wanheda _ in hopes that it would solidify his position with his queen. He was going to let Nia decide on Clarkes’ fate and rely on her cruelty to entice the Sky People in retaliation that would resolve itself in Nia’s death and his Rebellion in charge.” 

A woman cleared her throat, somewhere to Clarkes’ right, “Which is irrelevant now Commander, because Link is dead.” 

Blue eyes met brown across the room, “It is my right as the Prince of  _ Azgeda  _ to put a stop to any such plans. Link deserved death for his treason.” 

“And you believe you should be pardoned because of it? Your mother will have your head boy.” Another grumble from the same elder that Clarke had spoken to minutes before the tension had taken over the room. 

“It was that or war, which would you choose? If his selection had won the challenge and Wanheda did end up in the clutches of my mother the Sky People would demand justice. If they’re part of the coalition it is the commanders’ right to distribute punishment and if they demand war it is her responsibility to support them until justice has been met.” 

The same female voice from early spoke once more, “Lift the banishment on  _ Roan kom Azgeda  _ and allow the completion of the challenge!” 

“We can’t lift the banishment if it means Roans’ life, the boy deserves to be rewarded for his dedication to his family and his people.” 

“Then are we in agreement on how to proceed?” Clarke watched as everyone nodded solemnly and Lexa then turned to face Roan, “By order of my council your banishment shall be lifted and as in accordance with your clans’ doctrines you shall be the acting ambassador of the Ice Nation until your mother appoints a new head of state. Do you accept your position for all it’s worth  _ Roan kom Azgeda _ ?”

“ _ Ai do _ .” he said as he took a knee and pledged himself with his right hand over his heart. 

“It is done.” Lexa ushered him to rise and take his seat as the official ambassador and then looked towards Kane and Clarke. “Now that we have all clans represented we must discuss the rogue sky people.” 

Kane looked between Clarke and Lexa, “What rogue sky people?” 

“The survivors of Agro Station.” 

“What about them?” 

“They landed in Ice Nation territory and from what Wells and Murphy reported it didn’t look good.” 

A disgruntled voice from Clarkes’ rear spoke up, “And why are we hearing about this just now?” 

“We didn’t know enough about the group that survived or the circumstances to their status.” 

“Right, exactly…” Clarke had quickly said in Kanes’ defense, it was better to play dumb than it was to let everyone in the room think that they were withholding information. “One of our guards, Wells, spoke to the Commander on his own. I didn’t know about it until after the fact and Kane wasn’t sure it was the best decision to have made either.” 

“What did Wells have to say?” 

Clarke met Lexas’ eyes and waited for the briefest nod of permission to take it away, “They found survivors of our people right on the border of Ice Nation. From there the guards that were on this recovery mission directed them back to Arkadia, but on their journey they managed to get some information. We suspect that  _ Ice Nation _ responded in the same way  _ Trikru _ responded to us. Nobody knows for sure what happened, but Wells is worried that they’ll try and seek retribution.” 

“Bringing me to my next point,” Lexa took over, “if a conflict is preventable between the two clans then it should be acted on. We cannot pick a side in this situation, both clans must have equal support. My proposal is to bond the Sky People to the coalition through a marriage agreement between  _ Klark kom Skaikru _ and one of the representatives of  _ Azgeda _ .” 

“The Rights of Favor have already been called!” an outraged ambassador stood from his seat and pointed, “To turn your back on our tradition is to mock it!” 

To Clarkes’ surprise it was Titus that responded, “I assure you I’ve consulted the Commander and she’s consulted the flame. It is true that it goes against our tradition and custom to circumvent a challenge once it’s called, but it is entirely against the customs of  _ Skaikru _ to hold such challenges. In light of this, to conjoin our customs we believe that Wanheda should get to choose her husband of the three Azgeda representatives.” 

The ambassador of  _ Delfikru _ stood up and cleared his throat; “We’ve seen alliances formed by marriage three times and none of which were held under the Rights of Favor. I stand with the Commander in this decision.” 

“You’re biased, your clan joined this alliance with a marriage.” 

“Correct and my son in-law is a blessing to my people, but he didn’t have to participate in a small scale conclave to do so.” 

He sat back down as another ambassador spoke up, “I agree with Dia, but only if these rogue sky people can concede.” 

“I assure you,” Kane started, “if they don’t concede they will not have an affiliation with us.” 

Titus then took over once more, “Then it is settled, Klark kom Skaikru will choose her husband of the three representatives originally sent from Azgeda. Bring them in!” 

In the flurry of movement Kane crouched closer to Clarkes’ level, “So this was your plan all along?” 

“Not entirely,” Clarke admitted while she eyed the entrance, “I didn’t expect to have any kind of choice, but I was hoping that I’d be matched with someone from Ice Nation.” 

“Incredibly risk considering their queen has an unhealthy obsession with your death.” 

Clarke shrugged; “We just have to figure it out as we go, at least this way we’ve protected our peace two-fold.” 

“ _ Hir laik the chosen ones! _ ” 

Three men walked into the room with frowns, scarcely clad and all looking cross at their given situation. Of the three, only one had really caught Clarkes’ eye and it was a soldier with unruly brown hair and freckles that resembled the stars. She felt her eyes widen when she met his cool brown stare from across the floor and then felt a faint blush rise to her cheeks when he realized who she was. She hadn’t expected to ever see this warrior again, let alone as one of her possible suitors, but there he stood. He commanded respect in his stance and she couldn’t help but appreciate the way that the remaining two men on either side of him followed his example. It was natural of them to do so. 

“Would you like to inspect your choices?” 

Clarke looked away from the warrior in the middle and turned towards Titus, “Is that normal?” 

“Well, typically we would encourage your ambassador to do so, ensuring there’s no birth defects or abnormalities.” 

Clarke snorted, “That’s archaic, they all look like fine men to me.” 

Titus nodded along, “So you’re willing to choose then?” 

She felt brown eyes on hers as she nodded, then she let her gaze drift back to his. She could see he wasn’t happy and it looked as if he was calculating the ramifications of launching himself out the window. And then just as quickly as the bit of panic spread to his eyes it was gone! She walked closer to the three men and stopped in front of him. “You wanted to know about Wanheda?” 

He nodded and she smiled softly, self-consciously, “Well then, looks like you’re about to have all your questions answered. What’s your name?” 

“ _B_ _ ellamy kom Azgeda _ .” 

She nodded and swallowed thickly; “Alright Bellamy, I’m Clarke and it looks like we’re about to be married.” she extended her hand out for him to take and held her breath while she waited for him to accept. She knew in her heart of hearts that he wouldn’t deny her, for multiple reasons, and one of them being his entire purpose of being in Polis was this possibility. Still she couldn’t help but let out a weak and nervous laugh. 

“Your hand is sweaty.” 

“Well,” Clarke scoffed as she yanked her hand away roughly with a glare, “I’m a little out of my element here, please excuse the completely normal physiological reaction.” 

She turned her back to him and announced her selection, to which the room erupted in chaos, but that didn’t stop her from hearing the soft whisper that ghosted down her spine; “Brave Princess.” 


	8. why me, but more why you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring to you... the wedding!

The wedding ceremony was something else.

Clarke didn’t find it bizarre like some of her people that were in Polis with her. In fact, she thought it was rather inclusive! It appeared that the details of the ceremony were incredibly gender fluid, but respectful in her traditional role as a woman. It was clear that marriages to the grounders weren’t just for population growth or unions between two people, but it was a union of families. So much so, that the political agreements of the marriage were the only negotiations that had to take place. Bellamy and Roan had to sit down with herself and Marcus -with Titus supervising, to discuss personal alliances between the Ice Nation clan and the Sky People. They agreed to share specific holidays, trading routes and in a customary tradition among the grounder clans the trading of people. Which was not as bad as it sounded!

Traditionally wedding ceremonies were week-long events, but given the circumstances of Bellamy and Clarkes’ the celebration would have to be divided between the allotted three days in Arkadia; really a two-fold purpose. In this particular marriage agreement no dowry would be necessary, which to Clarke felt like a relief, because it was already going to be difficult explaining things to Abby. However, it was expected for Bellamy and his family to present the Sky People with a gift -mostly, to Abby, but Clarke and Marcus both knew that she wouldn’t be receptive to much of anything. Bellamy explained that he didn’t have much family, just a sister, but then Roan had chimed in. In the end Roan had insisted that Marcus accept a gift from the siblings at the first joint celebration, the Sky People’s _Unity Day_ , Clarke gagged, and in the meantime Roan would see that something was sent from the queen herself as well.

Finally the terms were set. Clarke would live in Azgeda with her husband and she would get to invite (she stressed the word invite) up to ten citizens of Arkadia to take up residence within the Ice Nation as well. In return, Azgeda would send the same amount of people to live amongst the Sky People to teach them their ways and to further combine the cultures. Arkadia would be allotted the land of the pre-designated territory of Mount Weather and the citizens that took residence at the sight of their main camp must either take residence within that territory or separate from the official _Skaikru_. It would be the responsibility of both clans to come together to trade integral information on survival; hunting, medical practices, preparation for the seasons and the duties that come with becoming part of the coalition. In the event that either clan fell under attack it would be the immediate responsibility of each other to take arms. If either clan fell into peril it would be the immediate responsibility of each other to assist. And so on, and so forth. For _Skaikru_ their responsibility within the coalition would be to act as an advanced technological clan. They would utilize their healing skills and advances in medicine to treat whoever came through their gates. Finally, once they established a secure and stationary way of life they would have to supply advisors that could travel through the clans and offer assistance in architecture or healing, or whatever the clan needs that _Skaikru_ can meet.

“The last thing we must finalize is the position of Marcus kom Skaikru becoming your ambassador.”

“Is this an imperative decision?”

Titus looked confused as he decided it wasn’t imperative, but it was necessary. “We ask,” Clarke interrupted gracefully, “because it’s customary among our people to vote on our political leaders. We’d want to take all of this information back to Arkadia and allow for our people to vote on the person they think would make the best choice in ambassador.”

“We can agree to that!” Roan replied enthusiastically, “I’d like a condition to be put in place.”

“Of course, name it.” Marcus gestured before him.

“I think that to keep it fair the vote should be between the two members of your clan that have already dealt with the coalition and commander.”

“An excellent thought! It would make the adaptation of your tradition easier to understand by the rest of our council.”

“I personally think it should be between Marcus and your guard Wells.” Roan said, his tone sturdy, his eyes soft. Clarke felt her eyebrow quirk up, but before she could say anything Marcus was in agreement and Roan explained his reasoning. Instead of focussing on the rest of the political discussion she met her husband to be as his gaze traveled from her face to the far wall behind her. She smirked a little at that. He acted shy, but the way he held himself showed nothing but confidence. For most of the talks neither of them had been allowed much input, which was fine with her, Clarke was done making difficult decisions. She could tell that some of the negotiation points didn’t sit right with him.

Despite Bellamy being a complete stranger to her he had particular tells and generally let emotions run across his face. His jaw ticked every time something was decided without his input -the tick would travel from his jaw to his temple if it involved his people as a whole. He kept his arms crossed across his chest, but every time he heard something he didn’t agree with his knuckles would turn white against his sleeves. He also kept his gaze steady, his brown eyes unyielding as he surveyed every reaction to those in the room, every movement of lips of those speaking and followed every miniscule movement of the body. Clarke noticed that he sat straight in his chair with perfect posture and that he spoke only when addressed. He regarded Roan as ‘Your Highness’, but called Marcus and Titus sir. He didn’t address Clarke. In fact his apparent disdain for her immediately irked her beyond belief!

She didn’t have the chance to confront him, because as soon as negotiations were done Titus called in servants to lead Clarke away to prepare for the formal ceremony. She was itching for a fight and had wanted to confront Bellamy on his apparent hostility with her, not that he had spoken more than two words to her, but still. She allowed herself to be ushered out of the room by three giggling servant girls. All of which eyed Clarkes’ betrothed up and down with devilish grins and that _jerk_ responded with a playful wink. A wink! Clarke bristled at the obvious attention the pretty brunettes got and then barked at them to hurry up. Bellamy raised his eyebrows, taunting her, but remained silent and she just didn’t have it in her to respond. She wouldn’t stoop to his childish taunts. Instead she said goodbye to the three gentlemen at the table and fled the room.

Clarkes’ mood only darkened when the three servants told her that she had to send Wells and Murphy to guard Bellamy’s quarters and allow the Ice Nation guards to stand at her entry. “It would be seen as offensive if you didn’t allow for your future husband's men to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection.” Clarke grumbled, but she conceded and after a few moments of dealing with a disgruntled Wells and flat out rude Murphy she had two nameless guards in their place. “I’m keeping Zoe.” she had said when she returned. Zoe just shrugged as she walked past the three servant girls.

To Zoe it was a fascinating opportunity to learn something new. It was fascinating learning about their customs; weddings normally took place on the fifth day of the week and normally not held in the winter time and did the Sky People know that there’s a special wine prepared for the bride and groom? It was exciting to the younger of the two sky women, but to Clarke it just reminded her of her inevitable fate. And then one of the servants went on to explain the ‘ _maidenhood_ ’. “We want to cleanse you of your formal self which allows you and your new husband to come together as one new whole.”

“Uh…” Clarke reddened in the face, “... that sounds enlightening, but I don’t think I understand.”

“We’ll build you a bridal crown from the flowers of the garden while you bathe in the watering hole.”

“Right, okay, and this symbolizes what exactly?”

One of the servants snickered, “Your virginity Clarke.”

Zoe snorts from across the room and Clarke throws her a quick glare before she begins to stutter out her explanation. She hadn’t even thought to consider her virginity as a token to the marriage! She floundered through her explanation until one of the servants laughed until she gasped for breath; “Oh gosh! No, no we don’t anticipate our people or your people to live celibate lives until marriage! We’re very open about our sexualities and in some cases conditions of a marriage are left open so that the bride and groom can continue to explore themselves with others.” and then the girls voice softened as she gripped Clarkes’ hand, “All of this is just symbolic to show that from this point you are no longer just Klark kom Skaikru, you’re no longer on your own in life’s’ journey and that the marriage itself is sacred to _you_.”

Clarke blinked rapidly and she felt a little dizzy as she sat down slowly. Zoe rushed over to ask her if she was okay, but she held her hand up to signal she was fine. The servants in the room also shared looks of confusion and panic, but Clarke did nothing more than sit and stare into space in front of her. For the first time in the forty-eight hours since her arrival in Polis she’s hit with the first sign of shock. She had run on auto-pilot for most of this ordeal that it never occurred to her how serious it was! She was getting married! Suddenly she was overwhelmed with a feeling of homesickness, because how could she get married without her mother? And the thought of marriage just never seemed in the cards for her! Ever since her time in solitary, she lost the hope of having a life like that. Not that the life she would have imagined in the Skybox could ever compare to life on the ground.

“Clarke?” Zoe asked gently after a few moments of silence from her friend. “Are you alright? Because, it’s completely okay to _not_ be alright. This is a big deal and you really haven’t had the chance to really adjust to it all.”

“I’m fine; I just realized what was actually going on.” Clarke let her eyes travel from the wall to her friends’ eyes. “I never imagined myself getting married, let alone here on the ground and without my mom.”

“You imagined your mom at your wedding?” Zoe asked with a chuckle, “I could never imagine Abby a weepy mother of the bride.”

“No, but she is my mom.” Clarke laughed back in response, but then she looked at the servants that waited patiently, “Alright, I’m ready let’s get this done.”

And so Clarke was led to the same garden that she snuck into at night, but to the far corner with the deeper water feature. She felt an ironic bubble of laughter spill from her lips but when she was questioned she just shrugged it off. She didn’t know if it was appropriate for her to be sneaking into the gardens at night and she definitely didn’t want to mention her first time meeting Bellamy being in the garden as well. So instead she allowed herself to be led to the water and stripped. Her servants went in with her while Zoe stood watch, a silent reminder that even during joyous occasions they couldn’t let their guard down. She let them wash her with the soaps and oils that they deemed necessary and when she finished with her bath she was led back to her room where they began to brush out and braid her hair. One of the servants placed intricate smaller braids along the sides of her heads and connected them in the back and then did the middle up with one bigger braid. Clarke was mesmerized by the way this stranger pulled at the bends of the braid to make it seem bigger, messier, but still ornate. Then she had some smaller free falling braids throughout the body of her hair. It was explained that each stand alone braid represented a moment in which her status as a warrior and leader were earned.

When they finished her hair they placed a crown of intricately placed flowers atop her head. Clarke wasn’t the best at Earth Studies, but she knew that Zoe was one of the top students and was fascinated to hear her friend review the selections. “You thought I was just standing watch, huh? Secretly, I was asked to make this for you since your mother couldn’t be here and it normally would be her job. I hope you like it! I put lilies of the valley as the base of the crown and some lilac towards the sides to thicken it up, but I wanted to emphasize your eyes so I found some delphinium to weave in with the lilac and three of the green orchards right at the center of the back of it!”

Clarke gently ran her fingers over the velvety petals and let Zoe see her watery smile; “its beautiful Zoe, thank you.” she said as she moved to envelope her friend in a tight hug. When the girls separated another servant came over with a bundle of material, it wasn’t white, and like the old Earth traditional style had been. They helped Clarke change and it was a simple deep blue tunic, almost black. Thick straps rested on her shoulders to keep the tunic up and then the third servant came in and weaved long strips of leather across her waist crossed over at odd angles and then tied off at the front in a standard knot. Her boots were exchanged for a silky pair of slip on shoes that brought her height down at least two inches, but felt wonderful on the calloused skin of her feet. And then the paint came, which wasn’t shocking to Clarke, she knew that the grounders’ believed in the traditional war paint to symbolize many things.

She had not expected the paint to be a shimmery gold color. Each servant and Zoe took turns with the sacred paint. To start the servant that braided her hair painted three gold bands on Clarkes’ left forearm and this symbolized the three-hundred grounder lives she took in the name of her people. The second servant then dipped Clarkes’ right hand into the paint up to the scar on her wrist from her time inside the mountain and then allowed the excess paint to drip back into the collection; this symbolized the natural born leader within Clarke. The third servant girl took her finger and smeared a steady line down the center of Clarke’s face, over her lips and down her neck to the center of her chest, she then replaced her finger into the paint and placed two lines horizontal on Clarkes’ face so that the gold smeared over her eyelids and just at the height of her cheek bones. The marks of a heda or commander. Finally it was Zoe’s turn whose finger was dipped into the paint and then led by the first servant to create the mark at the center of Clarkes’ sternum, just where the original vertical line of gold ended. It resembles a loop, but with sharper angles. Zoe’s fingers started by tracing a diamond and then added on an open ended triangle.

The four extra women excused themselves to prepare for the ceremony themselves and left Clarke alone, but she was startled out of her stupor when she heard the steady and melodic voice from the doorway; “Your chosen symbol is fitting for you.”

“Lexa…” Clarke smiled weakly in greeting, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to ensure that preparation was completed, we’ll be starting shortly. Kane is a good man and he wanted to ensure that some of the traditions of your people were included as well. He’ll be escorting you to the ceremony space and down the aisle.”

Clarke shrugged off the emotion with an easy jest, “Yeah he would be good with that. Do you like it all?” she gestured to herself and then could feel the way Lexa’s eyes trailed over her body.

“You’re beautiful Clarke…” Lexa made her way further into the room and then sat beside the young blonde, but she remained facing forward, “I wanted to apologize for how things have turned out. I never should have taken that deal from the Mountain Men; I should have stood beside you.”

“I get it, you know? You don’t have to apologize for making shitty decisions to save your people.” But the unsaid hung heavy between the two of them.

Lexa touched her right forearm gently, “If I hadn’t listened to the voices of the commanders’ past maybe this ceremony would be happening differently.”

Clarke turned and smiled softly at the woman, “Thinking like that will only drive you crazy.”

And then they sat in a heavy silence until Clarke broke it to ask, “What does the symbol mean?”

“It is a reminder of heritage, patriotism and family.” Lexa paused to take in a deep breath before she turned to finally look the woman she yearned for in the eye. “You must honor your roots Clarke, because behind every one of us there is an ancestry that provided us with a heritage. Our values, our habits, traditions, skills and abilities. It’s time for you to stop seeking stability, because you’ve already attained it through all of this.”

Clarke hummed in response and then the two girls sat in another silence, this time only disturbed by Lexa standing up and making her way towards the exit. “I’ll see you out there.” she said solemnly, but Clarke couldn’t let this moment end with just that, so instead she threw out her own condolence…

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too, that things didn’t turn out differently.”

* * *

Bellamy knew what was expected of him after he watched Clarke leave the room. He knew that when he returned to his quarters there would be two members of the newly declared Skaikru standing guard at his doorway and three servants awaiting him inside and undoubtedly the presence of Roan. Since Bellamy didn’t have a father or any brothers, it would be Roan taking over the sacred duties left for family. And Bellamy loathed it all. The beguiling and frustrating woman named Clarke (or Wanheda as he soon realized) hadn’t left the room for more than two minutes before her stand-in ambassador was making more requests. Traditions that their people stood by to be incorporated into the ceremony, which of course Roan and Titus thought would be a brilliant chance to bring the two cultures closer together. If he thought they were pointless and a waste of time he kept the opinion to himself, but he let Roan know the second they were on his way back to his room his standings of it all.

“Don’t look too smug, _your highness_.” He sneered as they walked past the two strangers at the door, only Bellamy rolled his eyes when one of them greeted Roan as if they were old friends, because of course they would. “Come on Roan, we don’t have time for you to manipulate the sky guards.”

“I didn’t manipulate anyone; I simply played the room to get what I wanted. And it worked! Imagine that.” Roan ended wistfully as he threw himself into one of the armchairs in the room. “Isn’t this exciting, the most eligible bachelor of the Ice Nation is tying the knot!”

“Yeah, it’s really something.” Bellamy grumbled as he threw himself face first onto the bed. “She seems problematic.”

“She seems feisty!” Roan said in reply with a smirk.

Their conversation was interrupted by one of the new guards making his way inside the room in a fury, “Don’t talk about her like she’s a piece of meat you scumbag!”

“Damn it Wells!” The other guard groaned as he attempted to reach for the deep skinned boy’s arm. “I told you to let it go man. Let it go!”

“How can you just stand there while they talk like this?” The one named Wells demanded with a shove at the chest of the nameless guard.

“Can we help you?” Roan said with a bored drawl as he eyed the two, completely unimpressed with their bravado.

“Yeah, you can, you can stop talking about my friend like-”

“Like she isn’t an attractive and powerful woman?”

“That’s not what you said.” Wells grumbled out with a sulk. He then addressed Bellamy with a finger point ( _God was this kid rude_ ), “You’re about to be the luckiest man on this planet, stop acting like it’s the end of your world.”

Bellamy sat up and glared at him, “Please spare me the dramatics, I don’t want to marry your Princess because it’ll ruin my life. I just don’t want to marry her in general.”

“You are really selling yourself buddy.” The nameless guard muttered before he promptly turned to Wells and grabbed his shoulders. “Dude you have to let this go, Clarke made her choice and we are so close to achieving what we set out for! Do not ruin it all just because you’re jealous.”

Wells in turn stuttered, “I am… I-I am _not_ jealous Murphy! I’m _concerned_. For my best friend and her overall happiness and wellbeing.”

“Not convinced, but maybe if you practice some more.”

“Shut up Murphy, just because these guys speak your language doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be suspicious of them.”

“Gentlemen…” Roan interrupted with a clear of his throat and clapped one hand on each of their shoulders, “we have some pressing duties to fulfill in preparation for our groom over there, may I suggest having this conversation another time?”

Murphy shrugged the heavy hand off of his shoulder and glared at Wells, “See what you did? You got us in trouble.”

“Ok, seriously, enough!” Roan barked out as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to take Bellamy’s sword and put in the tomb.”

Bellamy groaned from his spot on the bed, “Must we do that? Can’t we just say that we did that?”

“And risk Titus finding out that we didn’t adhere to one of our sacred marriage traditions? No thank you, hand it over.”

To Bellamy’s credit he does and Roan smiles and makes his way out of the room, “Try not to kill each other!” he called over his shoulder as he whistled. And the three men sat awkwardly in an intense silence while the servants managed to get some things done around them. Bellamy eventually let out a groan as he threw himself back on to the bed, his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Through his peripheral vision he could see Wells still lurking near the entryway of the room while Murphy appeared to make himself at home in one of the armchairs. Some guards, he thought to himself.

Another few moments passed before Wells spoke up once more, only this time softer and less irate. “Look man, I’m sorry for how I acted. It wasn’t professional of me given my position.” accompanied by a snort from the other guard. “Clarke and I grew up together in space and for a long time it was just us. We were a lot better off than most kids on the Ark, but our family lives weren’t the best. I’m protective of her like a sister and I just want to make sure she’s going to be alright.”

Bellamy could understand and appreciate the concern. If his sister was in a similar position he’d probably have reacted much worse than Wells had. The Ice Nation warrior didn’t necessarily believe that and from the groan of frustration from the one called Murphy it was safe to assume that he didn’t either. The three of them lapsed into another silence, this one far more comfortable and relaxing compared to the last. The rustling of the three servants as they prepared his wedding attire and sacred paints the only noise besides their breathing. With his eyes still closed Bellamy felt it best to extend the olive branch; “I swear to you, _I_ have no intention of hurting Clarke. I’ll do my best to make sure she stays alive, but I’m not going to be her babysitter if she goes running head first into trouble.”

“Oh good, then you already know she’s a shithead.”

Bellamy chuckled, “More like a spoiled brat to me, but yeah that works.”

A few minutes later Roan had reappeared to the room and clapped his hands together rather happily. He hurried them all along so that Bellamy could complete his passage to manhood. Bellamy rolled his eyes at the blatant enthusiasm in his leader, but it was in good fun. Wells and Murphy followed up behind them and the servants took up the rear. It did not surprise Bellamy at all that it was Wells who asked about their traditions. Roan was polite in his response. The marriage ceremony was far more intense for the women -or whoever chose to advocate the feminine role in a same sex union, and it was all to ensure the balance between duty to the human race and honor to themselves. For men, or the masculine role, it was more about responsibility. While grounder culture saw women and men as equal in terms of status, it was expected that at least one of them would be the provider. In a political situation, such as Bellamy and Clarkes’, that role would be Bellamys’ because it is Clarkes’ clan that is joining his own.

The purpose of the sword ceremony was for Bellamy to prove himself a man. A few sly comments and chuckles by Murphy were ignored, but not before Bellamy whacked him upside the head. Of course in grounder tradition manhood didn’t mean sex, because sex was sex. Manhood was the ability to commit to a task and follow through with it. The ability to respect those that have gone before him and to be able to honor and defend the future generations. Normally the sword would be placed within a tomb or grave of a family member to the groom, but as the setting didn’t provide that opportunity (and since Aurora didn’t receive a grave after execution for treason) the sword was placed in the sacred tomb of the first commander. It wasn’t hidden or surrounded by booby traps -unless Roan had help, but by Bellamy walking out of the tomb with the sword he’d complete his transition from boy to man.

He’s held his sword hundreds if not thousands of times, but when he went to pick up off the ground in front of the final resting place of _Bekka Pramheda_ it felt heavier. He stared at it as he held up in front of him and allowed the weight to settle in his arm. He flexed his grip a couple times and gulped down a huge breath. Once he stepped out of the tomb he’d officially be accepting his fate. He’ll be married, not just to a stranger or the Sky Princess, but to Wanheda. He’ll be married to the Commander of Death. And he couldn’t tell if he resented the idea or not. If he had known who she was the night before, he probably would have asked more direct questions. He probably wouldn’t have noticed how blonde her hair was or how clear her eyes were despite them looking so sad. And then when she approached him and stuck her hand out he just couldn’t find a single reason to say no. Fuck his duty and responsibility to his queen, he meant what he said to her friends. So much so he swore it to himself, to Pramheda and to the weapons he’s wielded for his own life and protection hundreds of times.

When he exited the tomb Roan cheered and clapped him on the back, Murphy rolled his eyes and Wells stared straight into his eyes and when he appeared satisfied with what he saw he nodded once and then shook his hand. It felt like a small victory. Especially during the cleansing ritual as Murphy shared stories of Clarkes’ leadership during their early days on Earth and Wells sharing his stories of them growing up; “It was always Clarke that got us in trouble, always, but my parents just couldn’t get past what a sweet girl she was.”

“Sweet, like a thorn in the side.”

“You’re really selling your girl up for Bell here, please keep going.” Roan snipped while the servants continued to rinse Bellamy’s unruly curls and wash his body with the sacred oils. “Is it true you were all criminals in space?”

“Nice reminder.” Murphy laughed, “We were criminals, yeah, but I mean most of us were breaking the law to survive.”

“Or to help others survive...” Wells pointed out and that caught Bellamy’s attention and he asked for an explanation, “A lot of the kids in lockup were sent there for petty crimes because they had no choice. Our system was heavily flawed and now that we know the reasoning behind it all it makes sense. It doesn’t excuse the actions taken against children or anyone else that got caught in the crossfire, but it explains an awful lot.”

“And what did Clarke do?” Bellamy asked as he waded out of the water and into the robe waiting for him. “How did she end up locked up and sent to Earth if she grew up comfortably?”

“Her father was an engineer for the Ark and he maintained the oxygen supply system. Somewhere along the line he noticed a flaw in the design and what was originally supposed to last us three-hundred years wasn’t even going to make one-hundred and fifty. He knew about it for a while and had apparently been trying to figure out how to fix it. He never intended for Clarke to find out, but she did and for weeks I knew something was wrong, but she wouldn’t tell me. One night she snuck to my family compartment and spilled it all to me, her father was getting desperate and people were getting sicker and something had to be done. People deserved to know why their children were losing their vision and they deserved to know that their untreated bronchitis was actually a reaction within their lungs to compensate for not having enough air…

“Jake, Clarkes’ father, tried to talk sense into Abby, her mother. Abby has been a councilor for most of Clarkes’ life and Jake figured since Abby was also the lead physician for the entire Ark that she would make the right decision. Maybe Abby did, or maybe she just thinks she did, but she and my father the Chancellor of our people executed Jake for treason and then within seconds of his death had Clarke arrested.” Wells let the information settle over the newcomers before he continued to finish his retelling of the situation, “Abby thought she was protecting Clarke by sentencing her to solitary confinement for a year. I don’t know anything about that, Clarke has yet to talk about it, but there’s a lot of resentment that still rests between the two of them. I do know that she was two weeks out from her eighteenth birthday when we got sent down here.”

“Do you think they’d have executed her?”

Wells swallowed thickly as his gaze trailed towards the grass, “I have no doubt that was my fathers’ plan. When I confronted him on it he told me chaos must be avoided, the expedition to the ground was still unannounced at that point and I was desperate to get back in contact with her. So I punched a guard and got landed in lockup and hoped that Abby would try and get me in with Clarke, but no dice. A few days later we were being loaded into the Dropship and sent down here as experiments. I think it still rubs Clarke raw that either way her mother was prepared to sacrifice her too.”

Bellamy scoffed, “I’d probably be too, yeah, and that’s fucked up.”

“So fucked up.” Wells agreed with a chuckle, but it appeared that the two men had reached some kind of understanding. The group made their way back into Bellamys’ quarters and proceeded to get ready. Clothing was provided for the two guards and Roan took the place as the father figure for the ceremonial dressing. Tan trousers and a deep red top that was open down the torso with long sleeves. His curls slicked back, it only took Roan three times to get it to work, and then deerskin boots. He wore a leather sash around his waist and over the top of the trousers that tied in the front and cuffed his sleeves at his wrists so that they were secure. And then it was time for the paint, gold to symbolize a rich and fruitful life as a married man. The first servant took his right hand and dipped his palm in the paint. This was done to show that he was a warrior and could protect his family. The second servant took his fingertips and dipped them into the paint before he traced a line from the top of his lips down the front of his throat. He then used the remaining paint to place two thin lines of paint over the bridge of his nose. These lines represented his service to the commander and in his case his status among his people. Finally Roan stepped forward to trace the symbolic symbol at the center of his chest.

As Roan traced the ‘Y’ shaped design with an extended vertical line between the branches he spoke quietly, “For divine protection, that the higher powers spare you trouble and that someone kind will warn you about misfortune. May this acquaintance grow into a friendship and beyond. Let it guide you through your instincts and intuition.”

* * *

The ceremony space was minimally set up. Lexa clad in her war attire stood in front of a large crowd on the stairway entrance to the tower in Polis. Bellamy stood in front of her to the left and Roan behind him with his sword. Lexa allowed the crowd in front of them to settle before she motioned with her arms for their attention; “ _Ai kru today ste a celebration! Osir join Belomi kom Azgeda en Klark kom Skaikru in sonraun. Osir welcome Skaikru as our own en celebrate the continuation gon peace en sonraun ona the graun.”_

The crowd let out grunts and war cries, some warriors pounding their chest and almost all of them stomping their feet in thunderous applause. The stranger across from Bellamy looked confused and he almost took pity on her, before he noticed Titus quietly translating from Lexas’ right hand side. Once the crowd died down a little Lexa raised her left arm out in front of her, “ _Ai present Klark!_ ”

The thunderous sound continued as Clarke walked down the aisle created for her, escorted by the one they call Kane. She looked poised, calm and collected. She looked beautiful, but Bellamy didn’t want to focus on that. When they reached the bottom of the stairs Lexa prompted them with a question in English; “Who hands over the great _Wanheda_ to this man in the name of marriage?”

“I do.” Marcus said with a polite smile, he then turned towards Clarke and gently placed his cheek against hers before she silently pushed her up the stairs. She took her time to reach the top and walked gracefully, elegantly really. She looked like a princess and Bellamy had to fight the urge to throw the condescending nickname to her. Once she was settled in front of Lexa across from him her eyes met him directly and for a split second he felt intimidated. Blue clashed with brown and he found he couldn’t look away. Once more the crown grew silent as deep dramatic bell chimes echoed over them, normally used to signify danger, now used to announce the beginning of a celebration.

Lexa continued to speak in both Trig and English. She explained the importance of marriage for mankind and the continuation of life. She followed it up with the significance of peace and justice and that by joining together the two clans and expanding the coalition by one is what the _fleim_ feels is right. Lexa spoke of the commanders of the past and their conquests for security and the happiness of their people. She spoke of faith in the higher powers and the sanctity of an honorable life. And then she had transitioned to the vows, first she looked to Clarke and told her to repeat after her. Clarkes’ voice was steady, strong and carried across the crowd as she said…

“There shall be one end for us both, one bond after our vows, nor shall our first love aimlessly perish.”

Bellamy was instructed to repeat after the commander as well, “So let the encircling bonds grip my throat in the midst, the final anguish shall bring with pleasure only, since the certain hope remains of renewed love and death shall prove to have its own delights.”

Lexa proclaimed from there; “I will now connect you both in flesh and spirit.” and took Clarkes’ left hand and sliced diagonally across her palm. She held the hand up for the witnesses to see, the legend of Wanheda would be no more than just stories. Proof that her life was mortal and that her spirit could not possess the flame clear in the sheen of ruby that now coated her skin. In turn Lexa did the same to Bellamys’ left palm. She brought their hands together. As Lexa wrapped their hands and wrists with the marriage cloth -which would then be expected to sit in their home, she whispered, “ _Jus drein, jus draun._ ”

Clarke let out a small gasp of pain as Lexa tightened the cloth knot. She felt Bellamys’ fingers flex against hers and she felt her eyes trail up to meet his, she had expected to see boredom or annoyance in his expression. Instead, she saw a fleeting bit of warmth and admiration. He sent her small smile and she returned the favor only to have her gaze trail away as she felt Lexa place her hands over their conjoined palms. “Do you _Klark kom Skaikru_ pledge that from this time on you will take the responsibilities and exercise the privileges of an independent household in the community of humankind?”

Clarke looked over at Bellamy and nodded once before she vocalized her vow, “I do…”

Lexa nodded and then looked towards Bellamy, “And do you _Belomi kom Azgeda_ pledge that from this time on you will take the responsibilities and exercise the privileges of an independent household in the community of humankind?”

“ _Ai do_.” He never broke direct eye contact with Clarke and she felt a blush work its way across her cheeks, he didn’t comment on it.

Lexa smiled at them both, her political leader's smile that made Clarkes’ nerves prickle and stomach clench and then held her arms up out wide, “ _Em ste odon!_ ”

No, Bellamy thought to himself as he caught Clarkes’ wide eyed and suspicious expression, they were far from done. In fact, it was only the beginning and he was equal parts intrigued at their future together and terrified. From the wary way Clarke looked at him he surmised she felt the same. In a split second decision he pulled her closer and leaned his head down so that his lips brushed the top of her ear, “What do you say Princess? Together?”

She pulled back and smirked up at him with her eyes twinkling, “Together.”


	9. when did it fall apart, when did we change?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I also bring to you... a bonus chapter! In light of the American Thanksgiving holiday next week, I decided to take some vacation time and work on other pieces and some one-shots and essentially do nothing for a week. With that, I wanted to leave you all a little Thanksgiving treat in the form of a shorter but more thoughtful chapter! The relationship starts.... NOW.

The celebration that followed the intense and almost artistic ceremony was anything but that. It was loud and full of life! The main hall was decorated in colors and the feast that was prepared was divine! Clarke only felt a smidge guilty for indulging with the knowledge that the majority of her people were still living off of rations and whatever else they could find. Bellamy also seemed to enjoy himself as he stretched out and relaxed his body next to hers. His arm rested on her shoulders and his foot kicked at hers under the table every so often. She did her best to not appear put off by the dramatic shows of affection. Obviously, nobody that had attended the ceremony was under the guise of their match being a love match. She scanned the room to find her friends and watched on as they mingled with other clan members that surrounded them. She felt her body relax just a little bit and lean into Bellamys’ as she noted Wells in the far corner with Murphy as they chatted with some warriors from clans she couldn’t recognize. He took a glance at her, but otherwise, didn’t pause his conversation with Marcus or Roan.

Zoe was with Miller and the pair seemed to stand back and observe more than interact. Miller looked tired with deep bags under his eyes. For the last two days he’s been on constant vigilance and then in a show of faith he assisted with Lexas’ guard as an extra set of eyes. All he knew about anything came from either Zoe or one of the other boys, but never from Clarke and she felt out of sorts with that. For a while, Miller was her partner, they led together and they made decisions together. Now it felt as if they were on two different pages or in two different stories all together! Clarke wanted to excuse herself, but every time she turned towards her new husband (that was going to take some getting used to) he simply passed her the chalice and insisted she drink. With a roll of her eyes she would do so and then she would go back to picking at her meal -completely stuffed after just a few magnificent bites, or scanning the crowd.

She tore the piece of loaf that was on her plate to little pieces. She hadn’t even realized until Bellamy reached over to her hand and pulled it away; “Princesses don’t play with their food.”

She glared, “How would you know? Or are you just making assumptions based off of archaic stereotypes and fairy tales?”

“Takes one to know one,” his eyes twinkled as he teased her, but before she could start a real argument he shuffled some of the food from his plate to her, “you need to eat more.”

“I’m full.”

He raised his eyebrows and then looked at her plate, “Make more room then, because you’re eating what’s on this plate before the end of the night.”

She huffed, “You’re not the boss of me!” and while she thought it sounded as a great rebuttal in her head, it only infuriated her when he laughed at her and then turned back towards his ongoing political discussion. “I was talking to you.”

“And I was done talking, now eat Princess.”

She bristled and turned to fully face him, “Listen here asshat, we’re married, but you aren’t going to just push me around and--”

“Princess I need you to eat, because the wine you’ve been drinking is extremely potent. It’s a traditional wine saved for the married couple and is only served to them. Now,” she rolled his eyes at his sarcastic tone, but nodded along anyway, “I don’t want to start this relationship off with you accusing me of taking advantage of you after you demonstrate how poorly you can handle your alcohol and try and jump me.”

Her mouth drops open, “You… you think that I would what? First off, I can drink and hold my alcohol just fine, thank you. Secondly to just _assume_ that I’m going to throw myself at you is absolutely--”

She stopped short when he shoved a piece of meat in her mouth. She fumed; she could feel the anger bubble up and rise through her chest. Her new husband didn’t seem bothered at all; in fact he smiled at her with satisfaction written all over his face. It was probably because she chewed the meat and then grumbled about it being tasty, but regardless, he had no right to treat her like a child! And she would have had more to say, but Miller and the other boys had made their way over to share their congratulations. Well, Murphy grumbled about it, but she hadn’t expected any real emotion from him. She was so delighted to see Miller that she basically threw Bellamy off balance -while seated, she may add proudly, to stand up and hug her friend. Marcus waved in greeting of the boys and then Clarke motioned for them to sit.

“Are you guys enjoying yourselves?”

“Free food, free alcohol and the knowledge we get to go home tomorrow? Best night ever.” Murphy stated plainly and then smirked over at Clarke, “The knowledge we get to go home tomorrow and _you_ get to face your mother? Priceless.”

“Please,” Clarke said with an eye roll, “there’s not much she can do and it’s rude of you to get enjoyment in my own personal strife.”

Murphy kicked back and gestured towards himself; “It’s what I do, enjoy other peoples’ struggles.”

Miller knocked him back further and then laughed as he fell. Then he smiled back over to Clarke, “You did it! I don’t know why you keep sacrificing yourself for what you think is the greater good, but somehow you were right once more.”

“Thanks Miller, your faith in me is astounding.”

“I’m just saying that if anything happens to you, I don’t care how many treaties I break, I’ll go to war.”

Bellamys’ ears perked up at that and he watched the interaction between friends. He wasn’t terribly concerned about war with the sky people, no they were Skaikru now, but he had to appreciate a solid threat. It was clear that Clarkes’ people admired her greatly. Wells was a perfect example of that with his display earlier in the day. Bellamy watched as their conversation continued and noted the way Clarkes’ smile softened, or her eyes lit up. He didn’t particularly care for the girl -he didn’t even really know her, but it still left a slight twinge in his chest. When Roan dismissed himself and Marcus followed a few moments later, Bellamy was left with no choice but to join in the conversation that his wife was involved with. He was determined to have an enjoyable discussion, but it was incredibly fun to push her buttons.

“Wells, enjoying yourself?”

The dark skinned man nodded, “The company could be a little better.” he points his thumbs behind him to Murphy who was attempting to get the attention of one of the servant girls, and failing.

“Yeah I know what you mean.”

Clarke glared at him, “I’m awesome, thank you. Miller, tell Bellamy how awesome I am.”

“You’re awesome Clarke; nobody needs to be told that. Bellamy is just messing with you.”

Bellamy lifted an eyebrow; “How would you know?”

Miller smiled, “Because you heard my comment about fighting for her and you aren’t stupid. You have no idea how to handle Clarke, do you?”

Bellamy shrugged, “I wasn’t prepared to handle Clarke, I was prepared to handle Wanheda.”

“Aren’t they the same?”

For a second Bellamy feels like it’s a test, but then Clarke is silent beside him and he wants to punch the one they call Miller. She was happy and she was almost, _almost_ , care free enough to enjoy herself and more than half the plate was now empty! This was saying something, from earlier in the evening. And Bellamy got it, okay? He understood from the moment she left the room earlier that morning and had Marcus looking at him and pleading that things were desperately not alright with Clarke. He understood that her choosing him, for whatever reasons which he will figure out later, was the only thing she had any real control over since she decided to eliminate an entire population of people. He doesn’t want to be overly difficult, but he doesn’t trust the Sky People, _Skaikru_ , and he certainly doesn’t trust Roan. And from the moment he saw her in the room being told to choose he knew Roan had something to do with it. Another _thing_ he was going to figure out later.

He spent a few seconds just looking over at his new bride. He knew absolutely nothing about her, nothing substantial and everything worth knowing that he found it came from Wells. “No,” he finally settled on, “not even close.”

If there was one thing Bellamy would probably never forget about his wedding day, it was the way Clarke smiled over at him in total shock and happiness. He didn’t notice the way Miller noticed or Wells or even the loud mouth one -Murphy, and he certainly didn’t see the way that Zoe nudged the closest of her companions in eagerness. For the rest of the night he noticed very little about the well wishers and noble guests. It was only at the end of the night that he began to catch on to the looks that surrounded him. First it was ambassadors wishing him a fulfilling wedding night -with Clarke playing a drinking game amongst some other grounders and her friends Bellamy was almost positive the only fulfilling aspect of the night would be her stomach into a bucket. Then it was Wells and the remaining members of _Skaikru_ winking at him as they tossed a drunken Clarke to his side. His face reddened at their implications. Now Bellamy was far from a virgin, but he wasn’t ever the relationship type.

Back in Azgeda the constant fear of losing his sister kept him on high-alert all the time. Add that in with the beck and call lifestyle he lived for Nia meant that relationships took the back burner. It was always much easier for him to find a physical outlet and move on from there. For a while it was different girls from around his village (that only got awkward within two weeks) and then it was Echo. A fierce warrior and strong confident of the queen that was taken by the mountain men during one of the expedition trips that she had been assigned to with Roan. She was always vague on the details. He knew she was up to something, but by time Roan returned they were at war with Trikru. In the blink of an eye things changed all around him and Echo was gone and the people fell from the sky and, and, and… there was always something else.

His current situation was proof of that.

None of it really started to hit him until it was Lexa that was approaching their seats. The commander always looked angry, maybe angry wasn’t the word, perhaps stern was better. She was no nonsense and made clear and concise decisions that ultimately met her goal in the timeliest manner. And her eyes softened as they landed on Clarke -who was arguing adamantly with Bellamy that she was not drunk, just having fun. See, the thing was, Bellamy was trained to be hyper aware of everyone around him. Their voices, their movements, their gazes, all of it! The slightest release in tension in Lexas’ shoulders and briefest of smiles was enough for him to piece it all together. His awkward level almost doubled in those moments, but his time to reflect on it was limited as Titus swooped in to talk to Clarke (if he could) and then Lexa was motioning for him to join her.

He shouldn’t have been shocked by her immediate greeting of “I assume I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are.” but he was. So instead he stuttered out a response and had to deal with her judgmental eye roll in return. “I’m talking about Clarke.”

“Oh,” he stopped and swayed on the balls of his feet, “I mean yeah. It’s an incredible honor to have had Wanheda choose me as her husband. I intend to honor our vows and protect her…” he let his statement drift off from there.

“Wanheda is a myth.” She made direct eye contact with him and waited until he nodded once before continuing. “You’re about to have your work cut out for you Bellamy, but I have no doubt you’ll do the job well. Clarke is about to enter the snake pit, so to speak, and for now we’re allowing Links’ rebellion to think things are going according to plan.”

“Roan already briefed me on all of that, I understand.”

Lexa nodded and then stared just beyond his shoulder and he didn’t have to guess at what -or who, she was looking at. “She was the brains behind the Mount Weather mission. It was always admirable, the lengths she would go to protect her people. Have you heard any of the stories from the survivors of Mount Weather?”

He thought of Echo and the way her ribs and spine protruded, the way her eyes appeared bubbly because her cheeks were so sunken. Her skin lost its natural tan hue and she looked sickly. For at least a month following the fall of the mountain Echo could barely eat. She gulped water down like it was her only lifeline, never left her room and could barely stand on her own whenever Bellamy had gone to visit. She never talked about what happened inside the mountain, but there were scars, physical and mental. Sometimes she would seek comfort from him, but in her exhausted state it wasn’t anything exciting, just a simple cuddle session on her bed or him holding her hand. It took a long time, but one day it was like something snapped inside of Echo. She became determined, started to train herself physically in the privacy of her room, gain muscle back. She’d eat more and more each day, take more steps, stand up longer. The day that Bellamy saw her in Nias’ main throne room was easily one of the best days of his adult life. And then when she offered to train with him in the sparring ring? He was ecstatic!

Things were far from okay though and he wasn’t so naïve as to believe that Echo would magically be better just because she returned to her normal life. She had a moment, attacked Octavia without warning, and when she was pulled off of his sister all he could see was red like the hand prints around O’s neck. Bellamy was sickened by the bruise that rested on his sisters’ skin, but more so by the lack of remorse that Echo showed whenever he was around. Still she pursued him as if nothing was wrong, but only on her terms. Long gone were the nights of physical reassurance and gentle touches. Despite that, Bellamy felt connected to the fierce warrior. It was something he couldn’t shake! Even when he was leaving for this particular mission she saw him off and wished him safe travels, she trailed her hand down his chest and smirked as she pulled away, but that was how she did things these days. The details of his mission were kept quiet, almost too quiet, so he was positive that if she had known that he could have ended up - _did end up married_ she definitely would not have let such a brazen display be so public.

All of which was too complicated to answer for his commander so instead he shrugged and played it off. “That’s not really my expertise.”

“Well you should make it such.” Lexa snapped back at him with venom on her tongue and Bellamy felt himself stand taller. She may have been his commander, but he was not going to be bullied by her jealousy. Lexa must have felt the tension change between them because she exhaled and then muttered a quick apology, “What I meant to say is that you should want to take an interest. You’re going to need to know what the survivors went through; it’s the only way that you’ll understand my decisions involving the sky people.”

“So this is you feeling guilty over your past actions.”

“I do not regret making the decision to put my people above all else, in the end Clarke made the same call for her people.” Which Bellamy felt was fair, though he still stood with his arms crossed in judgment while looking down at the commander. “I bring this to you in hopes that you and Clarke will develop a stronger bond, but not at the risk of losing her.”

He nodded once, “You have feelings for her.”

“I think I’ve proven that my feelings do not matter in this situation.”

“But you still have feelings for her, you still _want_ her.” At that Lexa didn’t have a witty remark or even a simple reply, but it was enough that she refused to meet Bellamys’ eyes. She stood like a child that had gotten scolded. It confirmed enough for him and it did send a surge of possessiveness through him. “If you interfere with the marriage that you forced upon both of us then your position as commander won’t matter to me, I will not let you toy with that girl over there.”

Lexa scoffed, “Please, as if you care about her. She chose you because Roan influenced her decision, because he trusts you to do what is right. I trust Roan to want the best for his people and that is all.”

Bellamy shook his head, “You want to know why Clarke chose me? Because the night that I met her I didn’t know who she was and I didn’t care when I found out.” Which was a lie, because he definitely felt the Earth shift under his feet when she stuck her hand out in front of him in that congested meeting room and it changed his perspective of the girl from the garden, but he wouldn’t let Lexa know that. “You don’t want to wish me well or offer me words of advice, you want to stake your claim and make it known that at the earliest sign of trouble you’re going to swoop in to take what you think is yours.”

“These are bold assumptions and disrespectful to your commander.”

“You’re the commander because the voices in your head tell you so, because you were able to slaughter your friends that you grew up with in battle. You’re no more miraculous than she is, you’re human just like me and Titus and everyone else in this room! You tell yourself that every decision you’ve made has been for your people and you’re hoping that will justify the consequences of those choices. And now you’ve realized that the one thing you can’t undo is betraying the original alliance between you and Clarke. You can justify it and be at peace with it, but you can’t _live_ with it and that’s not on anyone else in this room, that’s on you.” Bellamy didn’t realize his voice was rising until he paused and then gathered his composure. He hadn’t even been sure where any of this, whatever this was, was coming from. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop until Lexa understood exactly where he stood. “You have to let her go Lexa. If you want what’s best for her, if you want her to be happy again, if you want her to trust you again… you need to let her go.”

Lexa blinked up at him with narrowed eyes, “Nobody has ever spoken to me that way before and lived.”

He lifted his arms open wide in invitation to her threat, but she just rolled her eyes and softened her tone. “For what it’s worth I was going to start off with well wishes and perhaps a bit of advice, but you’re right. Clarke deserves the opportunity to move on from everything that’s hurt her, but if you add yourself to that list I won’t be so agreeable.”

He let out a bark of laughter in return, “I’ve been threatened at least four times in the last twenty-four hours, but yours is the least of my concern. No offense. Now if you’ll excuse me it looks like my wife has exhausted herself.”

Bellamy did not wait for Lexa’s acknowledgement. It would probably get him in trouble one day, the apathetic way he handled the commander. She was arrogant and pushy though and he just didn’t have the time to pretend he respected someone like that. Although he did appreciate her honesty; even if it seemed so irregular of her to be so open and raw with someone. He suspected the life of a commander was probably lonely and cold. His thoughts changed direction as he approached Clarke from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders. She jumped, but within nanoseconds her posture relaxed again. He excused himself for the interruption in her conversation with Marcus, Titus and some others and then he leaned down closer to her ears to murmur, “I think it may be time to put the Princess to bed.”

She pouted up at him, “I’m not ready for that just yet.”

He ruffled the top of her head, thus nudging her crown to the side and messing up the intricate braids, because she scolded him about it and then he extended the same hand to her from the side. “Come on now, you’re drunk and exhausted.”

“I’m not drunk.” she responded, even as she swayed backwards while he hoisted her into an upright position. She ended up colliding with his chest so she wouldn’t fall. “We need to take this paint off… are you sure it’s time for bed?”

His warm breath blew out over the now loose strands of hair as he reassured her, then he wished everyone around them a goodnight and ushered her away. He kept his arm firmly around her waist as she drug her feet and ignored her mindless rambling. She seemed hell-bent on delaying sleep and he just couldn’t figure out why. “What if you get upset that I’m not what you expected?”

At that he turned his face towards her in confusion, “Come again?”

“You know Bellamy…” she puffed her cheeks out and then exhaled, “like what if you’re expecting some kind of sexually empowering woman and I’m just regular ol’ me and awkward?”

“I’m not expecting anything sexual!” He barked at her in utter shock, although maybe it shouldn’t have been that shocking. His outburst was the wrong direction though because in an instant she was fighting mad again and demanding to know why not. As he pinched the bridge of his nose he sighed and then backtracked to better explain; “Princess,” she huffed at that, so he tried again, “Clarke, I’m just trying to get you to go to sleep. I have no intentions of taking advantage of you like this. And if we decide to have sex, it’s going to be because we _want_ to, not because it was expected because of our marriage alliance.”

“Oh.” she sighed out in relief and then thanked him, actually thanked him for his consideration. It took a hell of a lot in him to not demand to know what made her -or any of her people for that matter, feel as if basic courtesy was a novelty among the grounders. And alright, after he got her rinsed off and changed (with the assistance of two servants assigned to them) and then tucked under the blankets in the bed he was able to reflect some more. It wasn’t surprising to him at all that his people responded the way they had. On Earth, anything unknown was a danger.

He had just started to drift off into sleep, dozing really, when he felt Clarke shift closer to him. He remained on top of the covers, just to soothe her worries, but also turned when he heard her soft greeting. She didn’t wait for him to inquire what was wrong or to ask what she wanted; instead she just jumped right into it. “I don’t like sleeping,” she paused, but only long enough to yawn, “I won’t get offended if you don’t want to share a bed with me. I’m restless and I’d hate to wake you up and I promise I won’t run off.”

His response was to turn on his side, towards her, and bring a free hand up to smooth out the crease on her forehead. When he was positive that she was soothed back into a light sleep he said, “Go to sleep Princess.”


End file.
